In Another Lifetime, Maybe
by Flaux
Summary: AU. When Raphael got captured, he expected pain. He expected hours of interrogation and torture. He was prepared for it. He wasn't prepared to find mercy at the hands of two young mutants who've been living in darkness for far too long. No OCs. Cover art by Fanbeing. Third Place for Most Intriguing AU, Most In-character Donatello and Second Place for Most In-character Raphael.
1. Shredder's Plan

_**A/N:** Hello everyone! Welcome to this little TMNT plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone! Ehem. Yes. _

_Just a quick note before we start guys, this is an AU and it will contain NO OCs. I've tried to keep everyone as in character as possible, but please understand that in some cases only the essence of a character will be there, they are going to have a slightly different personality when certain situations happen. But I'm getting ahead of myself._

 _I hope you enjoy!_

 _ **Beta:** Ravenshell._

* * *

 _ **Warnings:** Violence, language, torture, pain. Lots._

 _ **Disclaimer:** I do not own this franchise._

* * *

 **Shredder's Plan**

* * *

The way he sees it, there are two ways out. Either he rots in this hole or Leo saves his shell - again.

But just the prospect of Leonardo bursting through the cell door with his perfect polished katanas, slashing the chains with a flawless kata back flip and double sword combination, makes Raphael want to roll his eyes.

 _Smug bastard._

It almost makes him wish Leo wouldn't come. Almost, because as much as he hates to admit it, Raph's pretty screwed. He needs help and at this point he doesn't care if it's his 'oh so perfect older brother' waltzing in to save the day again or the freaking Easter Bunny. He just wants out of here.

Three days, Raph growls to himself, trying to calm down. He's been trapped here for three days with no food or information or demands. Just a bucket that, frankly, is stinking up the cell pretty bad now. He doesn't know if the tiny window near the ceiling of his prison is a curse or a blessing. It sits there, letting light in, but also taunts him with the world outside.

Seriously, he'd figured at least Shredder _cared_. He'd never had trouble endlessly monologuing about his vendetta in the past. It doesn't help that Leo is taking his precious time to make a fearless entrance.

Or maybe the reason Shredder hasn't shown up is because Raph is not the only prisoner in this dungeon. Raph shudders. The idea of his family or friends being interrogated sends a wave of nausea down his stomach, a feeling that Raph is not ready to admit. His mild irritation suddenly morphs into rage and then cold, shaking fear.

Jagged breaths escape him, making his throat sore at the lack of water in his system. His hands ball into fists and not for the first time, jerk at the chains.

The rusty metal manacles bite the already raw skin on his wrists. He can do this. Raph growls louder, as if the chains' resistance depend on how much sound he makes. He pulls harder.

A clink later the chains fall in place at each of his sides, forcing him back to an unbearable kneel against damp rock. He falls against the wall once more with a sharp gasp. The iron rattles and echoes against the concrete and rock.

"Arg!" Raphael finds his voice engulfing the entire cell. He punches at the air when nothing happens -when no one comes- drawing even more blood from the shackles.

Shredder's trying to drive him nuts! "What's taking so long!? Doing your nails, Shredder!? I'm right here! _I_ can handle it! Come face me if you're so tough, you sick coward!"

"There is no need to shout, Raphael."

Raph freezes on the spot.

The door, unguarded and wide open, frames the armored man's silhouette. Shredder's face is shadowed as he walks pleasantly into the cell with his arms at both sides. And even if his gauntlet blades are sheathed, Raph cannot help but feel his heart beat faster with each step the man takes towards him. Raph snarls at him and raises his chin in defiance, putting up a pretty convincing bravado mask.

Shredder stops right in front of him, towering over Raph. "I am sure even a creature such as yourself can understand the concept of a civilized conversation."

Raph spits at his feet.

To his disappointment, Shredder acts as if nothing has happened. He considers Raphael for a moment. Raph prepares himself for a blow. However, the man doesn't move to strike him. He looks like he is annoyed at Raph's little act of defiance.

Raph smirks then. Shredder must have realized he's not getting to him.

In an instant, Shredder's blades slice out of his gauntlets and Raph can't help but stiffen at the sound.

This time Shredder laughs. The sound echoes on the walls as if proving a point. Raph growls at him and silently berates himself for showing how truly helpless he actually feels. "Tell me where Splinter is, turtle."

"Why, let me go check his calendar," he starts pleasantly until there is a slice on his right shoulder. He gasps, both in pain and shock.

It takes him a few moments to recover; his shoulder is burning with agony and flowing with fresh blood. Raph clutches his eyes shut before glaring up at Oroku Saki.

"Tell me where your Master is," he repeats.

"Bite me!" Raphael yells and to his surprise Shredder steps back.

There is a beat of silence. Raph's eye catches the blade drenched in blood at Shredder's side. The blood falls in uneven drops and threatens with another promised slice. He swallows thickly.

"Well?" he hears Shredder speaking, snapping Raph's attention to someone in the shadows, behind Shredder. "Aren't you going to do as he asks?"

Raph's confusion turns to horror when he realizes that Xever is jumping towards him. Suddenly the fish's fangs are biting his already hurt shoulder. Raph growls like a wounded lion. However, the agony doesn't last long.

The venom's effect is instant. A wave of dizziness spins his head to the side. His limbs feel like jelly. At least the pain in his shoulder is forgotten, like some old, faded memory, as the drug takes him over.

He can't afford this; in this condition Raph knows his mind and tongue will betray him. His arms are no longer working. Distantly, Shredder's voice reaches his ears again.

"Splinter, turtle." He is now lifting him by the neck. "Speak, while you still can."

But he can't. His throat is parched and his tongue might as well be made of rubber. Raph struggles to catch a breath. The pressure around his neck increases and there are black spots in Raph's eyes.

"Master Shredder," Tiger Claw interrupts carefully. Just how many people are inside this ridiculously tiny cell, anyways? "I believe the poison is far too strong, the cub won't last without an antidote."

Shredder growls in frustration, realizing his mistake far too late. He drops Raphael to the ground. Raph groans but makes no effort to move. He barely has the strength to try and keep awake.

"You!" Shredder calls to some soldier behind Tiger Claw; Raph cannot see who it is, everyone seems like a blurry shadow at this point.

The soldier jumps to his feet and bows his head, waiting for his Master's command.

"Make sure he doesn't die." It's more of a threat than an order.

There are footsteps now and a loud clank as the cell door shuts, leaving Raph alone with the poor soul destined for the impossible task. The soldier bolts towards Raph and kneels before him. Shaking hands grab his face. Raph tries to pull away but he is too weak to do anything but uselessly bleed on Shredder's floor.

The hands are moving again, this time inspecting his arm. Raph groans as the bastard takes a blood sample. He feels his bile rise up and when he finally pukes he hopes that at least the vomit reaches this asshole.

If it does, Raph cannot tell. In the end, there is a slight pinch on his arm as the injection penetrates him. Slowly, his senses start coming back to him and with them, the pain.

His shoulder is on fire but now he is lucid enough to grab the needle from the soldier's first aid kit, pick the lock on one of his anklets and kick the bastard as far away as he possibly can.

The Foot lets out an 'oof' as he stumbles back and collides against a wall on the other side of the cell. Raph gets to work. Time is of the essence. He needs to pick the locks on the remaining manacles and anklet before the Foot soldier recovers. It's been a while since he's done this and never has he picked a lock with a needle, but adrenaline is making him faster and more alert by the minute.

He manages to free himself in record time - take that, Fearless! He rises to his feet and grabs a scalpel from the first aid kit the soldier left on the floor.

The adrenaline is wearing off. He doesn't care and launches for the Foot soldier anyways.

The poor guy is leaning against the wall for support. He looks up, and realizing what's going on, he panics and moves away.

Raph crashes against the wall. Disorientation blurs his eyes. He shakes his head, trying to clear his vision and spots the Foot near the first aid kit. This time he is going to attack faster.

After one glance at Raph the Foot puts his arms up in the air.

"No. No! Wait!" The - kid?- says and Raph hesitates for a half second before making up his mind once more. This is his way out. But before he can even reach the soldier - kid - _Foot,_ there is a massive pain in his head and he falls to the ground with a thud.

The Foot is rushing to his side again, mumbling to himself as he kneels in front of Raph. "Come on, come on, come on," his tone is practically begging as he looks over Raph's shoulder and the amount of blood on the floor. He pulls some bandages from the first aid kit and starts wrapping up the wound. "Don't die, don't - come on, don't- No!"

Raph's eyes snap open and for the first time he looks up at the Foot and really _sees_ him.

"You have to stay awake," the boy says in a soft but determined voice, shaking Raph a little bit. "You can sleep later, but right now, you need to stay awake."

Raph is not listening anymore. When the Foot turns around, Raph recognizes the unmistakable edge of a turtle shell behind bony shoulders.

"Well, I'll be damned," he grunts at the hallucination. The worst part about Shredder's plan was that it was working. "Leo?"

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Tadah! That wasn't too bad, was it? He-he._

 _So, let me know what you think?_

 _Flaux._


	2. Nobody

_**A/N:** I was not going to update today, but you know what guys? Screw it. I'm currently working on chapter 10 and I'm having too much fun with this story. I really want to share it as soon as possible because I am impatient trash. Besides, this chapter is a shortie so I thought I might!_

 _Thanks so much for reading guys! You are all amazing! I'm just sad I can't reply to my lovely guests so I will do so here!_

 _Thanks_ _Alex_ _for your review! I'm glad you're liking the story so far!_

 _Thanks_ _Guest_ _for reviewing! I hope this chapter is worth the wait!_

 _Thanks also to the awesome:_ _MarthaJonesp2, starbrigate, Cutegenius, Nainers,_ _Rhodesincolumbus_ _for also leaving lovely reviews. I think I replied to all of you right? Haha! If not then send me a message telling me how awful I am and I will buy you all cake. I sometimes forget to reply but I really love doing so! *Has no friends and cries in a corner.*_

 _Ehem, I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

 **Nobody**

* * *

As it turns out, it takes an annoying amount of one-sided conversation for Raphael to stay awake. But at last, the jerk seems satisfied with the stitching work on Raph's shoulder – a very effective wake up call, if Raph says so himself - to finally, shut up.

In the end, they are both exhausted and wary of each other. Which actually kind of explains how they both end up in opposite corners of the cell, looking at each other like some sort territorial predator documentary crud.

The turtle sits with his knees braced against his chest. From the other side of the cell, he stares at Raphael unblinking.

"You're a turtle," he says at last. His voice cracks at the last word, like Raph's used to do a couple of years ago when he was neither a child nor a teen.

Raph doesn't even resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Yeah, no kidding, Einstein."

The turtle doesn't seem to be bothered by the implied insult or maybe he is just too stupid to understand it. He just looks away, burying his face in the sleeve of his oversized dark gray hoodie. "Of _course_ you had to be a turtle, it all makes sense now." He speaks mostly to himself rather than to Raph and lets out a shudder.

Raphael frowns. This guy's talking nonsense. Raph hates it when people talk to him like he knows what they mean, but don't explain shit. He swears, Leo can go on and on about meditation crud for hours. "Hey." He snaps his fingers twice in the air. The turtle's head lifts. Raphael doesn't give a flip about the dirty looks he's getting from the Foot. "You mind sharing what is it that makes sense around here?! Because from where _I'm_ standing-"

 _"-Sitting,"_ the turtle corrects, raising a smug finger and Raph growls at him.

"Sitting, whatever!- from where I'm _sitting_ none of this makes sense!"

If his little tantrum bothers the Foot, Raph can't tell. He just gives Raph a blank look and goes back to resting his cheeks on his arms. He closes his eyes; they look almost tired. Raph fumes at him but says nothing.

 _He's not Leo,_ Raph had acknowledged with a strange combination of relief and disappointment right after his head cleared completely from Xever's venom. As the turtle worked to stop the blood flow in his shoulder, Raph had gotten a better look at the mutant Foot. This guy wasn't his big brother. He was too tall, too thin. He also wore clothes but no weapons of any sort.

Raph had almost started a fight again. But this time the turtle was prepared. He saw Raph's fire before the first fist moved for a strike. Turtle was not a fighter, but he was good with pressure points. Raph discovered this the hard way. And with Raph's weakened state as an advantage, Turtle had had no problem grabbing one of the anklets on the floor and chaining Raph's right foot again. He actually even threatened to tie him up if Raph didn't let him work on the sliced shoulder.

 _Controlling little creep._

Fast forward, a few hours later Raph sits, trapped in a corner of the prison cell once more but at least with three free limbs and decent room for movement. His shoulder is no longer bleeding and the dizzy feeling from the venom is gone.

Raph knows he should be smart about this. Thankful.

"What do you want?! Who the heck are you?!" He also acknowledges he is extremely volatile and rude. He embraces it, even.

The turtle shoots him a mild glare.

"Keep it down!" he hisses and his eyes dart for the door. He stands up with a little effort. "Do you want them to come back?"

And those words are as clear as day in Raphael's book. He snarls a nasty smile.

"Oh, I'm sure you'd love that wouldn't you, Foot!" Raph says but does lower his voice, because the guy has a point, even if he won't admit it out loud. "Is that a threat? Are you going to call your Master?" He bites the last word like venom.

Turtle looks like he's ready to murder Raph. "Of course I'm not going to- can you please just shut up for a minute?" he finishes in a more calm voice and massages his temples.

"Don't tell me what to do, you-" Whatever Raph's saying is cut off when footsteps approach the cell.

Turtle's brown eyes widen and dart towards the door. He then kneels down to grab the first aid kit. He bolts right back up, his arms at his sides like a soldier and bows his head at nothing.

"What the heck are you-"

"Pretend to be unconscious," Turtle orders in a hiss.

"What?!" Raph whispers back. He's not making any sense.

Turtle just gives him a furious pleading look and puts a finger over his mouth without making sound. The footsteps continue and approach. Raph is not ready to admit how fast his heart is beating. Finally, the footsteps come and go past the door, disappearing down the corridor. It sounds like they were not meant for this cell at all. Slowly, cautiously, Turtle approaches the door and presses his ear against it.

There's a beat of silence. He can only hear Turtle's jagged breathing. They're gone.

Turtle steps away from the door and a shiver travels up his thin frame. As he turns to face Raph, he looks incredibly relieved.

"What's the matter? Scared of the big bad Shredder?" Raph finds himself taunting with a smirk.

Turtle frowns at him with disbelief, then something happens. Whatever expression he has, leaves his features and he lowers his eyes to the first aid kit. He sighs, almost in tired defeat. "I have to go."

Wait, what?

He makes his way towards the door then pauses to look back at Raphael, as if considering something.

Raph is not intimidated by this guy, but he _is_ curious at what his end game is. He doesn't look like Shredder's typical goons; in fact, he looks almost terrified at the mention of Shredder. But if he is, then- then, why was he here? More importantly, how on earth did Shredder manage to get a mutant turtle like his brother and himself?

"Here." Raph jumps, realizing he'd spaced out for a second and Turtle is kneeling in front of him offering a tiny transparent plastic bottle containing white pills. "Don't take them all at once. They should help with the pain but you can't move that shoulder or else the stitches might rip and I don't know if he'll let me help you again."

"Wha-?"

Turtle shakes his head and pulls something from his hoodie's front pocket. It's an old plastic water bottle. The sight of the liquid is motivation enough for him. Raph takes no time in snatching it from the offering hands and drinking the precious water.

"Easy," he hears Turtle say in a warning. "You'll puke again." And gently, he lowers the bottle from Raph's lips. Raph glares at him but says nothing. His instinct of survival finally taking over his temper; he waits. The jerk is right again. He should ration it.

Turtle gives the bottle back and takes out two pills from the smaller bottle. He extends them towards Raph who twists his head to the side, like a child.

"Painkillers," Turtle says in a whisper but Raph doesn't move. Turtle sighs and places the little bottle on the ground. "Take two now and two when the light goes away."

"Yeah, like I'm stupid enough to take drugs from Foot," Raphael snaps.

Turtle narrows his eyes. Then he shoves one of the pills into his own mouth and swallows it with thick difficulty.

He stands up to leave and Raph finds his voice again. "What do you want from me?"

Turtle turns around. The silence is thick and tense. "Not to die," he says finally and moves towards the door.

Oh _no._ "Wait!" Raph demands and panics when Turtle won't listen to him. "Hey, hey, hey, wait! Wait! What the heck! You don't get to do that and leave!" Raph finally yells and the turtle halts, waiting for him to continue. "What's your deal, man?! Painkillers? You obviously work for the Foot but you're helping me? What the actual frak?! Who the heck are you?!"

Turtle's left hand is already on the door's handle. His shoulders shake and there is tense hesitation before he pulls the hood over his head and murmurs. "I'm nobody."

Then he's gone.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** There you have it folks, short and sweet! Hopefully not too short, but this particular turtle is very reserved. You understand._

 _Anyways, hope to hear from you! See you all next week!_

 _Flaux._


	3. Buddy

_****A/N:**** _Thank you so much for all the support I've gotten for this story so far! I was really insecure about posting it at first, but you guys seem to like what I'm doing here. I've had a lot of fun writing this story and I can only hope you guys feel the same way when you are reading it.__

 _Really, thanks for sharing your thoughts with me! I really hope you enjoy this chapter. It was one of my favorites back in the day, when I first wrote the story. :)_

* * *

 **Buddy**

* * *

Raph won't admit it, but the painkillers are a blessing. And right now, he is far too thankful for them to be mad at Turtle for anklet-ing him back to the wall. The water is also a nice touch. As soon as his tongue tasted the liquid, it felt like life had been restored to him. His arms no longer lay at his sides, helpless and weak. His throat feels fresh and ready to scream if necessary. His head no longer clouds with dehydration. Despite his screwed up shoulder, he is now more lucid than he has been in the past four days. Suddenly, an escape attempt doesn't seem so impossible anymore.

He just needs an opening.

As if on cue, the door creaks open and Turtle steps inside. His hoodie is up, his gaze focused on the tray he balances in his arms. For a moment, he looks smaller. Raph guesses it's due to his hunched shoulders. Whatever. Turtle is just a means to escape. If he lets his guard down long enough, Raphael will easily pound him to the ground. Painkillers or not.

"Well, look who's back!" Raph calls in a mocking tone and leans back against the wall. "You know, after your little dramatic exit yesterday, I was wondering if you would show up -" Then he stops as the newcomer kneels in front of him and places the tray at his feet.

When Turtle looks up, Raphael's eyes widen.

"You're not-" Raph pauses. Guess it would have been nice if he actually knew Turtle's name.

But the new turtle understands what he means and shakes his head slightly. He gives Raph a shy smile and points down. Raph's eyes follow new turtle's fingers and find a steaming bowl of soup. It smells like vegetables and noodles.

For a fraction of a second, he considers pushing the turtle away and gulping the contents down. It's Leo's voice in his head that stops him. After all, Raph is inside an enemy lair and this guy, turtle or not, works for Shredder.

"You want me to eat this," Raph says and the turtle nods. The little thing seems almost excited as he picks up the bowl and blows on it before offering it to Raph.

He just stares back at this silly, oblivious creature.

When he finally realizes that Raphael is not going to touch anything to do with Shredder, the turtle tilts his head to the side. He glances down at the food, like he doesn't understand what could possibly be so wrong with it. Then, his eyes spot Raph's bandaged shoulder. He places the bowl down on the tray and points at the bandage, then at Raph, then at his mouth.

Raph blinks twice. "What?"

The turtle repeats the gesture, but slower this time. He waits for Raph to do something. Reply, Raph realizes as he frowns down at his wound.

"Are you asking me about my shoulder?"

The turtle beams and nods at him.

Raph shrugs. "Yeah, it's a lot better since -" he pauses again, "your, uh, friend... fixed it."

The turtle shakes his head.

"No?" Raph repeats as the other turtle continues shaking his head. "No, he's not your friend."

The turtle shakes his head again and then his hands make a sign on top of his plastron. It is a weird sign, especially because this guy only has three fingers. It's hard to tell if it's an 'ok' or a pinkie promise. Raph doubts it's the latter, because this guy is doing the sign with both hands anyways. The 'o's from the 'ok' sign touch each other, then both hands spread and turn around so that the palms are not facing Raphael anymore.

He gives the turtle an uninterested look and shrugs. "Whatever."

The turtle's hands stop moving; his gaze shifts down, a little disappointed. Finding the food more interesting now, he picks the bowl again and starts blowing the steam off it. He pushes it towards Raph's face as if he's a baby.

In an instant, Raphael is backing away. "Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing?! Get that thing out of my face!" For all he knows this food could be a trap. With a swift movement he shoves the smaller turtle away. The turtle falls back into his bottom. Upon impact, he loses control of the boiling soup bowl and its contents spill all over Raph's leg.

The burning is stingy and painful, but nothing too awful if he's being honest. However, Raph is so shocked about the unexpected sudden sensation that his ninjutsu instincts kick in. Panicked, he lets out a surprised yelp and kicks the turtle right in the face.

The shorter turtle falls sideways with a small grunt. It takes him a few moments to recover from the blow as he picks himself up to a sitting position. One look at Raph is enough motivation. He crawls back, away from the danger in a hurry. The corner of his lip is split open and fresh crimson leaves a path from the wound, all the way down to his chin. There is also a nasty red mark around his left cheek.

Regret is not something Raphael is used to. Not immediately after striking someone, at least. Maybe because his fights usually involve someone who can actually fight back and not this tiny excuse of a mutant. The fact that this turtle is working for Shredder is forgotten; Raph has never felt more like an ass in his life.

Not knowing how to go from here, he does what Leo did when they had found that hurt mouse in the sewers. He approaches the turtle as cautiously as he can and as far as his anklet would allow. "Hey, uh, wait, I didn't mean to -" he lifts his hands to show the other mutant he is unarmed. That's all it takes.

The turtle lets out a shriek and backs away a little more until his shell touches the opposite wall. The look in his baby blue eyes is that of absolute terror as his hand starts moving again. He rubs and rotates a closed fist on his chest in a clockwise motion.

Raph doesn't need to know this sign to understand what the turtle just mouthed. "Sorry? You're sorry?"

The turtle's eyes shine with tears as he nods fervently and repeats the gesture, more urgent now.

"No, wait... hey, listen." Raph approaches a little more but this time the turtle starts shaking violently. He curls up into a ball against the wall and turns his back toward Raph.

Raph stops in his tracks, backs away. Great. He is a jerk. He actually traumatized the kid.

From his spot he shakes his head and groans. "Hey, listen, buddy. You can't be sorry, you did nothing wrong." His apology comes out more like an angry complaint and it makes no difference to the turtle. Raph bites his lip, getting really uncomfortable when the turtle continues shivering. Maybe the little guy couldn't listen to him. He sighs and starts again, more softly this time. "Hey, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm the one who's sorry, okay?"

Of course. Brilliant. He's talking to the deaf turtle. Raph grunts and rolls his eyes, silently asking karma why he's always placed in these awkward situations. He takes a tentative step towards the turtle. His chain allows him to sit just a few feet away from him. The only thing he can reach is the turtle's left foot.

When he taps it twice, the head lifts and the turtle looks at Raph. He seems... strangely confused and disoriented. His dazed gaze scrutinizes Raph's frame as if trying to recognize him. Then he turns his head around, searching the cell, looking for something else, _someone_ else.

The lack of attention irritates him. Raph snaps his fingers and the turtle finally decides to remember who he is talking to.

Now Raph is the one doing the gesture over his own plastron. He doesn't think he's doing it properly but it works. The turtle relaxes. He seems to understand. "I'm sorry," Raph says out loud very slowly, like he's dumbing down the words. He continues with an explanation, even if it's unnecessary. "You took me by surprise and - I guess I panicked."

The turtle sits up to face him. He brings up the cuff of his sleeve and wipes the blood dripping from his chin with a small wince. He shakes his head. 'Sorry,' he signs again followed by some other type of hand gesturing Raph doesn't catch.

"What?" He leans forwards.

The turtle shrugs, deciding he won't make Raph understand whatever it is that he is trying to 'tell' him. He repeats the sorry sign for a last time before pointing at Raph's leg.

Raph's hands instinctively rest on the reddish burn. "Nah, don't worry about it, buddy." He waves a hand in the air, because the wound is something he'll live through. He's dealt with so much worse. "It was an accident."

The turtle gives him a timid nod and smiles then. And for some reason there is something strangely familiar in the expression. Wait. Does he... know him?

"Can you hear me?" he blurts out instead. Buddy had been answering his questions so far, but maybe he was just lip-reading.

Buddy nods. Okay, so not deaf.

"Oh, cool. So you just... can't talk," Raph finishes awkwardly and receives another tiny nod.

The silence falls again until Raph's stomach growls and he remembers how hungry he truly is. Now it seems stupid to think Shredder was trying to poison him. He did that already. And besides, he said so himself, he doesn't want Raphael to die.

His stomach complains once more and Raph tries his best to ignore it, but it's too late.

Buddy looks at Raph with something like pity. Raph's eyes dart towards the fallen bowl of soup. He shrugs, determined not to let this guy feel sorry for him. "Guess I sorta had that one coming, huh?"

The rustle of clothes catches his attention and Raph looks up. Buddy is closer now, shaking his head. "No?"

Buddy nods.

"Yes?" Raph repeats stupidly and Buddy shakes his head again, almost frustrated now. He lifts one hand and shakes a finger 'no' then points to the fallen bowl of soup, finally he points at Raph.

For a few moments Raph just stares and tries to figure out what is it that Buddy is trying to tell him. Then it clicks. "Not – my – fault. This is not my fault?"

Excited again, Buddy nods, as if everything is all right with the world.

"Yeah, that's real nice, buddy, but I'm still starving over here," Raph mumbles before he can stop himself and he winces. Part of him even considers eating from the floor. Shredder would probably have a good laugh at that. Then Buddy taps his shoulder.

He groans and turns towards the turtle, annoyed. Why can't he just leave him alone - there's a loaf of bread floating in front of his face.

"You rock, Buddy!" He cannot help but snatch the bread from Buddy's hands and shove it into his mouth greedily. It has been too long since he's last eaten anything and even this stale piece of bread tastes like heaven.

Buddy nods and seems pretty pleased with himself.

As Raph is finishing his meal, Buddy moves towards the fallen soup, he turns the bowl around and picks up as many of the spilled contents off of the ground as he can. He puts them back inside the bowl until there's only broth on the floor.

He sits down and scoots over, next to Raph, offering the bowl again. Raphael backs away with a grimace. "Eww, no way, man! I may come from the sewers of New York but I'm not eating from the floor!"

Buddy blinks at him then looks down at the contents on the bowl, not quite understanding what could possibly be so gross about them. He gives Raph a shrug before lifting the bowl to his mouth and emptying it in a matter of seconds.

Raph stares at him, his nostrils scrunch in distaste. "That is disgusting."

But Buddy smiles wider at him. He is far too amused by Raph's reaction and actually leans towards him. Raph is about to ask what he heck is he doing until Buddy opens his mouth and burps in Raph's face.

"Eww! What the heck, man?! That's-!" Raph draws back, trying to clean his face of the invisible germs. Then he notices.

He is laughing. Buddy is laughing at him. Or at least this is his equivalent of laughter. His shoulders are shaking in delight and he's not making a sound besides the tiny gasps between each muted giggle. But he is totally mocking him.

"Oh you think this is funny, huh?" Raph asks in good nature.

Buddy nods eagerly.

It's all it takes. Faster than Buddy can expect Raph uses his good arm to pull the smaller turtle's head towards him until he's trapped in an headlock. Then he gives the little sucker a well-deserved noogie.

Buddy struggles, and at first it seems like genuine life-threatening panic. But after the noogie lasts for far too long, Buddy seems to tell the difference between a threat and a game. He tries to get away but Raph is the ninja here, which means he is far stronger and even with a bad shoulder he can win.

That is, until Buddy tickles him. Raph lets out a bark of laughter. Buddy backs away, there's a playful light dancing in his eyes. He sticks out his tongue at Raph.

"Beginner's luck, you smug little brat, come 'ere!" Raph laughs and for a moment he is not in a cell anymore. He is back in the tunnels where he used to play countless times with his brother. He is five years old. Free and careless. There are no worries in his world, no fear or pain. Shredder hasn't found them. He is free. He runs, laughs, chases after Leonardo. Leo sticks his tongue out at him, smug little jerk, and –

He stops in his tracks. The chain binding his ankle clanks against the floor, bringing him back to the reality of the situation. Buddy – no, not Buddy - the Foot hesitates.

"I almost fell for it," Raph mutters.

The turtle on the other side of the room halts. His frame closes up into a more cautious and defensive position, his eyes narrow and his head tilts to the side, confused, _worried._ He points at Raph then does an ok sign in the air. _You ok?_

It only makes the charade far worse. Rage fills his eyes at how utterly _stupid_ he'd been.

"This is all part of Shredder's plan isn't it?" Raphael thunders and the turtle jumps in his feet. He looks so completely innocent that it only makes Raph even more furious. The turtle starts doing some other signs and Raph can't stand it anymore. "Stop! It's not working!"

But the turtle just continues signing. "Stop it! You're _not_ Leo – So just - just shut up!"

The turtle's eyes widen and he shoots a panicked glance at the door then looks pleadingly at Raph. He puts his index finger on top of his mouth.

"Oh, like hell I'll be quiet!" Raph yells even louder. "You tell Shredder that if he wants me to talk he better be man enough to face me! This bull is not working so cut the act!"

The turtle shakes his head, signs him to be quiet again. He approaches Raph.

"Get away!" Raphael demands and picks up the empty bowl from the floor. He throws it with all his might at the Foot's head. "Get out and tell your turtle _pal_ to stay out too or you'll both regret it, you hear me?! You'll regret it!"

The turtle is shaking on his feet; he seems too scared to even move.

Raph picks up the metal tray and shoves it at the turtle and this time it hits him right on the temple. The turtle falls against the ground with a thud.

"Didn't you hear me?! Get out! Get out! And don't come back!"

The turtle nods fervently, he picks up the tray and plastic bowl while his other hand tries to stop the blood from the gash on his forehead.

He scrambles to his feet and darts for the exit. With shaking hands he manages to take out a key, unlock the door open and stumble on his way out.

When the door finally slams shut, Raphael screams.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _Yeah, Raph is not exactly the best when it comes to deal with his emotions or something he doesn't understand. I think we can all agree he's the type of turtle that punches first, asks questions later. Too bad there's no one left to ask the questions to now. He-he._

 _I hope you enjoyed this chapter guys. Next one will be some time during this week! Let the games begin!_


	4. Something in Common

_**A/N:**_ _Thank you so much for the alerts, favorites and especially the reviews! They_ _mean a lot to me since I've been planning this fic for a while now._

 _I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

 **Something in Common**

* * *

"Your brother has been looking for you."

And here he thought Turtle couldn't possibly get more annoying. Raph lifts his head to glare at the mutant who is currently mopping the floor of his cell. Why Shredder wants the dungeons spotless, Raphael will never understand. Though he's not going to complain. At least the traces of vomit and spilled soup mess are gone. Also, the smell is not unbearable anymore.

"Don't talk about my brother," Raph grunts between his teeth. Ignoring Turtle is harder than he thought. Ever since he entered the cell, he'd been nothing but _chatty._

Honestly, Raph is too sore to pretend he cares about this short conversation thing. Were he healthy and with twenty hours of sleep on his back, he would have thrown the toilet bucket at Turtle's head. But that's just gross, and he really doubts Turtle would be willing to pick up the mess afterwards. He shudders, thinking of the smell.

"Sorry," Turtle says instead with a shrug. "I just heard some of the soldiers talking about raids in some of Master's properties. They mentioned a turtle called Leonardo and I thought maybe you'd like to know-"

The word 'Master' immediately reminds Raph that this jerk is working for the Foot Clan. "Shut up!" he thunders at the mutant across the room. "I don't care about what your effing classmates are gossiping about or if Shredder's taking ballet lessons. In fact, I don't give a _flip_ about anything you or that other little _freak_ have to say or 'not say' or whatever the heck it is he does. So cut the act and do us all a favor, pal. Shut the _shell_ up."

Turtle startles at his rant. For a brief moment, Raph can swear he actually seems hurt. Yeah right. As if Foot have feelings. He crosses his arms.

The moment is gone as Turtle narrows his eyes at him, condescending. He turns around and keeps mopping the floor. "He really knows how to pick them," he mumbles.

"What was that?" Raphael demands but he clearly heard the implied insult.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Turtle spins in a swift motion and gives Raphael a mocking little bow. "I thought his majesty didn't want me to talk to him. So no. I'm not talking to you. You know, you could at least show a little _gratitude."_ He looks away with pure grief written in his face. Turtle grips the mop close to his chest, almost defensive.

"Oh yes!" Raphael fake-beams at the air. "How could I forget? Thank you. Thank you for chaining me back up to the wall! It was really nice of you, you butt-kissing little twerp!"

Unaffected, Turtle just shakes his head. There's an almost sad glint in his eyes. "Wow," he says. "You sound just like them." His voice breaks at the end of the whisper.

Now Raphael is the one standing up. The chain rattles at his feet. He glares down, mentally cursing at the darn thing. If he could move, he'd teach this guy to compare him to Shredder or any of his cronies. "Take that back!"

"Or what?" Turtle asks in the same low voice but this time there's obvious anger behind it. "Are you going to throw a metal tray at my head too?"

Ah. There it is.

The overwhelming guilt makes Raphael back off. His eyes find his feet again. Despite the undeniable shame that colors his cheeks he can't help but mumble, "He had it coming."

And that's when Turtle advances on him. He stands just a few feet away from Raph's arm reach. He's smart. He knows he cannot beat Raphael if the opportunity arises. "Listen to me," he says and Raph can actually see fury in those dark eyes. "You can scream all you want, call the guards on me, throw that bucket across the room, rip those stitches off for all I care. But you stay the _'shell'_ away from _him."_

Even the way he says 'shell' is unnatural. Raph scoffs. "Or what?" he dares and Turtle hesitates. This tiny, pitiful moment is all Raph needs. He launches at Turtle, growling and yelling.

Turtle gasps and falls down on his bottom with fright. The wooden mop clanks against the ground besides him. His arms are covering his face, protecting. He's actually shaking.

And Raph didn't even touch him. They both knew he wouldn't be able to in the first place. The chain attached to his anklet is too short. Turtle placed himself out of arm's reach. There's a sick taste in Raph's mouth as he stares down at this pathetic mutant. _Coward._ Just like his sick-so called Master.

He straightens up and snorts in disgust. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He crosses his arms over his chest when a sudden idea pops into his head. "Better go and tell your dear Master you guys are not getting anything out of me. Or better yet, don't. Who would have thought getting caught by the Foot would be this _fun."_

But unlike he'd predicted Turtle doesn't lose his temper. Instead he lowers his arms and slowly pushes himself off of the ground. He tries glaring but there's obviously so much humiliation in his eyes that he turns away. He bends down to pick up the mop and turns his back to Raph. He sighs and starts working again, like Raph's not even there.

Raph growls. He is not falling for it twice. He's not going to let these turtles guilt-trip him again. He's a ninja. He knows a charade when he sees one.

"Where is Shredder?" he demands. He's tired of playing games with these kids. It's time to move up to the boss level.

Turtle's response is not what he expects. All defiance and pissed-off attitude is gone. He shrugs his shoulders and mumbles to the ground, "I don't know."

Raph frowns at him. What the heck happened to the snarky, smug jerk he'd been yelling at just moments ago? Jeez. Talk about sensitive. Well too bad for Turtle, because Raph's not buying it.

So he sits there, glaring silently at the mutant as he continues to ignore him, determined he's not going to let this guy get to him. Groan. Maybe Turtle is not as bad at this good cop/bad cop routine as Raph had initially thought. Raph is almost tempted to talk to Turtle, just to make _something_ happen. He should have taken the chance back when Turtle first got here. He seemed pretty eager to share stupid details about Raph's injury healing progress or some other trivial little fact no one cares about.

Raph sighs tiredly. He wishes Leo were here. Leo would know what to do. He would have at least tried to calm Raph down enough to get some useful information out of this Foot.

He can't help but growl in frustration. He just hates sitting here and waiting. Turtle is definitely not talking to him anymore. Minutes pass excruciatingly. It's driving him nuts. He clenches his eyes shut. When he opens them, they find the object of his problems – who mildly glares back.

 _Fine,_ he snaps in his head. He's never been one to reason with in the first place. Raphael takes both hands around the chain that anchors him to the wall. He lets out a loud breath of anticipation and pulls. His grunts of effort must have caught Turtle's attention at one point.

"What- what are you doing?" he asks and takes a tentative step forwards. Raph ignores him and pulls harder. Now the mutant seems to start panicking. "Stop. Stop it!"

But he doesn't. He's effing tired of being here, left to rot in this dungeon. He's in pain, he's hungry and he just wants to _leave_ so badly. If Shredder is not coming, Raph should take advantage of it, not sit around and enjoy a pleasant chat with these prison guards that remind him so much of his older brother.

"You're going to hurt yourself!"

 _Stop._ He clutches his eyes and pulls again. _Stop sounding like Leo._

Turtle is right. Raph's hands slip and let go of the chain, putting all pressure on his leg instead. The shackle digs and cuts the flesh underneath. Blood pours from his ankle, trailing down his foot. But Raphael doesn't care; he grabs the chain and yanks once more. He's getting out. Right now.

Something gives out. Raph falls backwards onto his shell. The free end of the chain lands right next to his foot. He smirks.

When he rises to his feet and turns, Turtle's already taken a few steps back. He holds the mop in front of him, staring with wide eyes at his every move. He looks like someone who just got stuck in a cage with a hungry lion. Technically, he's not wrong.

This is almost too easy. With a smirk on his face, Raph flips forwards. He slams his good elbow square on Turtle's chest and snatches the mop from his hands right before Turtle lands on the ground. Raph twirls the staff perfectly in the space between his fingers and mid air.

"Thanks for the bo." He smirks at the fallen turtle and darts for the door.

Locked, he realizes after several attempts at pulling. His eyes narrow. But how could Turtle have gotten into the cell if it was locked-? He spins around, but Turtle is no longer on the spot on the floor where he'd left him.

Inches away from the window, Turtle's arm is extended sideways. In his hand, he holds a key hanging by a metal ring. His intentions are perfectly clear.

"Stop what you're doing," Raph warns, taking a step forwards, "and no one gets hurt."

Turtle's glossy eyes don't leave him. His lower lip shakes and he shudders, as if preparing himself for the hell that's about to come.

"It's not going to make a difference to me now," he whispers and tosses the key out the window.

Raph sees red. This stupid bastard! He roars, and drops the staff. Fury clouds his vision as he goes into ninja mode. The punch that catches Turtle right in the eye feels like home run. He even takes satisfaction in hearing him whimper as he tries to protect his face. Raphael doesn't stop. This stupid Foot just ruined his one and only chance of getting out. To go home, back to his family. His punches become harder and harder. He's growing tired. He doesn't give a darn about his shoulder at the moment. The image of the dojo surrounds him; Leo is always so smug when he wins-

He stops. This, this isn't Leo. He's not in the dojo and this is not some training exercise gone wrong.

"What am I doing?" he demands at the air. He thought he was past these anger issues. He looks down and even considers an apology. It never comes. Not for a Foot. He does step away, though.

Besides, all in all, the mutant doesn't look as bad as Raph had expected. Yes, his eye is kind of a purple and black mess but he's not unconscious or anything. Raph supposes this is because of the lack of food and proper rest he's getting. His punches are not as strong – and _sting._ He hisses and glances at his now open shoulder. Great. He gasps and suddenly feels drained.

Turtle sits up. His good eye avoids Raph's face. "You really are just like them," he whispers and before Raph realizes what is happening, his knees buckle underneath him.

He's falling backwards but his head never touches the ground. Someone – Turtle – catches him and starts dragging him away from the window, back towards the wall with the chains.

Stupid. Raph berates himself. "Pressure points," he mumbles but receives no verbal confirmation from Turtle. He doesn't need one. He shouldn't have let himself get so close while injured. He underestimated Turtle and the bastard got a good hit to his immobilizing pressure points. His limbs feel like jelly. They fall limp at his sides, refusing to obey when Raph commands them to.

The unlocking sound of his anklet brings him back to the moment. As his foot falls free, the skin underneath protests in stinging pain. There is another clank and the feeling of something surrounding his good ankle. He has no idea why Turtle would choose not to leave the restraints on top of the raw flesh but decides it's because of practicality. If he were to leave it on top of the wound, things would get extremely messy. Not to mention bloody and painful. And of course, Turtle probably doesn't want to be inefficient in his precious Master Shredder's messed up eyes. Cunning creep. He is just looking out to save his own shell.

"Foot," he spits, unable to find a more degrading insult.

Turtle grabs his bad ankle. Raph attempts to kick his hand away, or at least plant one on the guy's face. But the grip is strangely strong for someone who just got beat up. It's either that or Raph is far more gone than he thought. His foot is not working. He closes his eyes, hating the feeling of being helpless while Turtle takes his revenge on him.

He's completely unprepared when a soft, wet cloth touches his ankle. It burns and smells of alcohol. He hisses in pain, but Turtle doesn't stop. And Raph can't do anything but lay there. From his line of vision he spots the first aid kit, hanging over Turtle's hip, held in place by a strap across his chest. Shaking hands wrap up the wound in some dry, clean, and soft material until finally they leave him be.

Even in his dazed state, Raph knows when an injury is not life threatening. The ankle bandage is completely unnecessary. Unless Turtle cares if he's in pain. Raph's heart beats faster as realization sinks in. He's helping him. Turtle's helping him. How can he help him after Raph just punched him all the way to Philadelphia? But if he really wanted to help, then why the heck did he throw that freaking key out the window? This Foot doesn't make sense. Raph frowns up at the turtle, who still refuses to speak a word. "...Why... help?"

Tense silence falls for a minute. Then, he meets Raph's eyes gingerly. Raph can swear he sees them glowing with insecurity. "No one deserves this. You probably just want to go home. But I can't help you. And I - I'm _sorry,"_ Turtle says softly and shakes his head. He jabs another pressure point, right on the side of Raph's neck. "I truly am."

And Raph gets swallowed in blackness.


	5. Him

_**A/N:**_ _I'm sorry for keeping you guys waiting this long. Work was actually a lot busier than I initially expected. Also, if you go back to previous chapters you'll notice they've been edited. Which brings me to my next exciting news!_

 _I have a Beta! The reason this chapter took so long to get to you guys is because I wanted her to check and proof read chapters one to four before moving onwards to five. And she did it! She's awesome, so everyone please thank the lovely_ _ **Ravenshell**_ _for helping me with my story! I dedicate this painful chapter to you! :D_

 _I also want to thank my lovely reviewers! You guys keep me motivated!_

 _ThisVioletofMine_ _,_ _BubblyShell22_ _,_ _Guest,_ _SewerSurfin_ _,_ _Cutegenius_ _,_ _starbrigate_ _,_ _Heather_ _and_ _Rhodesincolumbus_ _._

 _MARSHMELLOWTOASTIE_ _you have the nicest comments! I can't reply to you due to fanfiction, but I just wanted to say thank you! Every review from you literally has me jumping up and down like a schoolgirl. You rock._

* * *

 _ **Warning:**_ _I am not sorry._

* * *

 **Him**

* * *

He hadn't realized how lousy of a ninja he was until Shredder actually caught him. Leo's never-ending lectures repeat themselves inside his head, like a broken record. But Raphael doesn't try to stop them. The fact that they're annoying doesn't take away how relevant they feel at the moment. And who knows? Maybe there's something useful among all the eye-rolling crud his brother blurts out.

" _They're only material possessions, Raph, like Master Splinter says..."_

" _...The strongest of ninja Masters can survive with barely any food or water."_

 _No._ Raph shakes his head, trying to clear it of the obvious hunger that claws at the walls of an empty stomach. He needs to _concentrate_ if he wants to get out of here. Pulling at the chains is just not gonna do the trick anymore. And he'd tried. Apparently, the chain that he _had_ managed to rip from the rock surface had already been kinda loose. That's the only reason it had given out. Just a lucky shot.

And Raph can't rely on luck anymore.

There's no point trying to pull at the well-anchored, thick restraint that currently anklets him to the wall. Raph's hands reach for the bandage on his free leg. His ankle aches like it's on fire. Much like his shoulder, actually. He chuckles bitterly. He can't risk the same thing happening to his one good leg if he wants to _walk_ out of this hole eventually.

Raph clenches his eyes tightly shut. He breathes loudly. _Think._ He needs a real plan; something that Leo would come up with, something smart and unpredictable that will catch the Foot off-guard and– _stomach grumble._

"Son of a —" he growls and slams his knuckles into the nearest wall. "Ah!"

" _Your temper is making you vulnerable, Raph!"_

Raph's hands claw at his head in frustration. He groans at the ceiling. Leo's never going to let him live this down! Splinter's never letting him set foot out of the lair again. Heck, at this rate, he'd be lucky if he manages to step _outside_ this cell at all.

With a heavy sigh, Raph's leans back against the hard rock. What he wouldn't give for Sensei's magical healing hand trick right now. Even if his father is incredibly wary whenever he has to use that particular ability. Raph doesn't care; his shoulder is open again. The stitches he'd gotten days ago are ripped and bleeding. The crappy, hurried bandage that Turtle had improvised last night is soaking with blood. It's Raph's own fault for attacking Turtle, but he doesn't regret it. The jerk had it coming.

Ah! His head is _killing_ him. He could totally use the painkillers Turtle gave him.

From the corner of his eye, he spots the little discarded bottle on the floor. Its contents, probably a dozen pills, lay scattered around it.

Raph contains a grimace. Maybe tossing them across the room first thing in the morning hadn't been the smartest of ideas. But he was pissed! He couldn't help himself. The darn pills mocked him just by being there. They reminded him how little sense Turtle makes.

When the door creaks open, Raph realizes the spilled medicine is not the worst sight he could face today.

"The heck do you want, Xever?" he groans, annoyed at the mutant's very presence. But his eyes betray him. Raph watches every single step those metallic paws take with wariness. He's not dumb. He can tell a threat when it stands literally five feet away from him, with the ugliest of looks on his gloating fish face.

Xever sees right through his charade. His mouth twists into a full fanged grin. He toys with a knife between his fingers, enjoying whatever small amount of power he has over Raph. "Why turtle, I just wanted to make sure you are recovering. No more hallucinations, I hope?"

"Go to Hell!" Raph bites and faster than he can even blink Xever is right in front of him. Their nostrils are inches apart. The thin edge of a blade pushes against Raph's neck slightly.

"You first," Xever says and draws his arm back, preparing to deliver the blow.

Raph pulls his head away before slamming his own forehead against the fish's.

Xever stumbles away, barely keeping his footing. Dropping the knife, he grabs for his sore head. "You'll pay for that, you little-"

"Enough, Xever."

When Raph's gaze shifts over to the door, he wears a scowl. And speaking of Hell, here comes the devil.

Shredder strides into the cell, carrying himself around with his shoulders squared high, like he owns the place. Which he does, but whatever. This time he seems more composed than before. His eyes, almost completely shadowed under the metal helmet, narrow at Raph in delight, savoring every moment of his pathetic condition.

"You don't look so good, Raphael."

"Well, you look the same, unfortunately." Raph nods his head in complete mocking reverence. "Nice of you to finally cut the crud and come face me yourself. What happened? Polishing that bucket of yours took longer than expected?"

Shredder ignores him and his gaze shifts past Raph, towards the bottle of water, preciously guarded at Raph's side. He snorts. "Ah yes," he tells himself, "I did order it not to let you die."

Raph tilts his head, confused for a moment before his gaze follows Shredder's footsteps towards the corner of the prison, where he'd discarded the pills this morning.

Shredder stops in front the spilled medicine. He taps the little bottle with the tip of his shoe. His foot crushes some of the scattered tablets into dust. "However, I do not recall ordering it to give you these."

"It needed some help getting out of the prison this morning," Xever pipes up, giving a devious, knowing grin as he examines his knife passively. "Seems like _Raphael_ gave it some trouble; it lost its key."

Shredder turns to Raph and drawls, "Is that so?"

Raph swallows down the sudden knot inside his throat. Not for the first time he curses Turtle, the two-faced punk. This is what he gets for lowering his guard around Foot Clan. Shredder confirms the threat that hangs in the air as he approaches Raph. The man's gaze lands on the recently bandaged ankle. There's something very disturbing in that look. The man's hands clench into tight fists.

Out of sheer survival instinct, Raph draws his hurt ankle towards his body. He returns the glare, determined not to let Shredder see his fear. If the bastard's going to open his wounds then so be it. Raph's prepared for whatever the heck is in store for him. He is Hamato Clan, he will not disgrace his father. He won't go down without a fight.

Raph's hands ball into tight fists, at the ready.

Then Shredder completely ignores him and turns to Xever. "It will _not_ make a mistake like this again. Bring it to me, Xever."

Raph's lips part but nothing comes out. He - he's not talking about Raph.

"Yes, Master." The fish bows deep down. On his way up, Xever flips the knife between his fingers, expertly. He pockets his weapon and is now on his way to the door.

"Wait!" Raph doesn't realize what he's doing until the word leaves his mouth. Shredder and Xever both turn to stare at him.

And Raphael freezes, muted, to the spot. He swallows hard, then shakes his head slightly. What? No. He doesn't care about Turtle. Why is he so uneasy all of the sudden? It's not like he didn't turn the sucker into his personal punching bag. And yet... there he sits, cornered by his enemies, feeling nothing less than some terrified child for someone he barely knows. When he finds his voice again, it's surprisingly steady and demanding. "You're not gonna hurt him."

Xever blinks, then lets out a loud bark of laughter. "Why, Raphael, what concern is that of yours? Believe me you have more important things to worry about at the moment."

As on cue, Shredder's gauntlet reveals its blades. Raph stiffens.

"Leave us, Xever," Shredder orders and the door closes behind the fish.

Shredder is pacing around the cell again. He stops in front of Raphael. "I have a proposition for you, turtle."

A drop of sweat runs down Raph's brow in anticipation. Shredder continues. "You will tell me where Splinter is... and I will kill you here and now."

Raph stares disbelievingly at him. He doesn't know if Shredder's serious or not. "Yeah, how about you check those negotiation skills of yours. I heard they're giving a course downtown -Ack!"

His shoulder explodes in pain, a silent scream stuck in his throat. The blade is once again inside his arm, this time, all the way until the base of the gauntlet touches his skin. Raph is gasping for air. When Shredder first sliced his shoulder open, he had been sure that would be the worst pain he'd endure. He'd clearly been wrong.

He couldn't think. Couldn't move. Couldn't stop the moisture from making its way up, crawling at the corners of his eyes and he hated himself for it. Far in the distance, Shredder's speaking. His voice is almost an echo in Raph's ears.

"You will find that there are things far worse than death down here, Raphael," the man says and twists the blade still inside Raph's wound. Then he raises his armored arm and lifts Raph from the ground like a fish on a hook. This time Raph does scream. His feet kick back and forth. His toes try to touch the stone floor, so his weight is not all supported on his open shoulder.

Shredder lifts him higher. And Raph's screams fill every corner of the cell. Finally, Shredder's gauntlet sheathes the blade and Raph falls to the ground with a thick thud.

"Where is Splinter?" Shredder asks, his calm, pleasant voice is a complete contrast to the savagery he's done in the past minutes.

Raph is still struggling to catch his breath. He tries to control the shaking that suddenly takes over every limb in his battered body. A blink. Everything is getting dark. Consciousness is slipping away...

The kick lands on his side. It sends him to the ground in an instant. Then Shredder jabs a muscle on his good forearm. The pressure point is not gentle like Turtle's had been. This one doesn't immobilize him either. No. This technique is part of a more sinister purpose.

Raph is now wide awake. Every nerve in his body is working at a hundred percent and now the pain is unbearable. Raph groans, braces himself in a fetal position, but the attack stops.

After what feels like an eternity, Raph finally has the strength to gaze up. Shredder's not the only enemy in his cell anymore. Xever is back and at his side, Turtle stands like a loyal soldier, head bowed, arms at each of his sides. One of them holds the first aid kit that always accompanies him wherever he goes.

It's the long strap of that box-like bag that catches Raph's eye. Part of the fabric is dragging, almost touching the ground. It won't stop moving back and forth. That's when Raph notices. Turtle's shaking like a leaf.

Raph is completely taken off guard when Shredder makes a beeline towards Turtle and lifts him by the neck of his hoodie. The first aid kit falls to the ground with a thud. In a swift movement, Shredder slams the poor guy against the wall. A sickening crack comes from either Turtle's shell or the pebbles that fall from the now split surface.

Shredder drives the turtle right into the wall a second time, then lets go.

The sight of the boy collapsing onto the ground is enough to make Raph snap out of his trance. "What - what are you doing?" he asks, forcing himself to sit up. Shredder nods at Xever and the mutant advances on Turtle. Raph starts to panic. "What the heck do you think you're doing?!"

"Tell me where Splinter is," Shredder orders twisting back to Raphael. Time slows down. Raph's mind goes blank. Shredder growls and nods at Xever once more.

And Raph feels all color drain from his face when Xever kicks Turtle.

"No! What the – stop!" Raph yells before he can control himself. He doesn't even care he sounds pathetic. This isn't right. Turtle is by no means his friend, but he had _helped_ Raph. And even if he hadn't, Raph couldn't just stand by and watch someone else get beat up because of _his_ war against the Shredder.

A sick sound of metal crashing against flesh brings him back to reality. Blood runs down Turtle's arm, where the spiked metal boot landed and sliced the fabric of his hoodie open. He curls up into a fetal position, desperately trying to protect his head with no avail.

Xever laughs. "That won't help you, boy!" He kicks again and this time Turtle does groan. This only seems to be all Xever needs to beam in delight. "Did you just speak?" he demands and strikes the fallen mutant again. The metal boot is digging on Turtle's chest, legs and arms, but he doesn't make a noise or reply to Xever's accusation.

"You only speak when spoken to, you _insolent_ little freak!" Xever emphasizes each word with a blow, each one stronger than the previous one.

Raphael is standing now, his shoulder forgotten as he tries to launch at Xever but the chain on his leg is too darn short. "Stop! Stop it! You're gonna kill him!"

Xever delivers one more kick and turns to Raphael. _"_ _It_ had it coming." He spits at the shivering mutant on the floor. Then his entire foot slams down against Turtle's left lower leg and something snaps.

Turtle screams. The terrible howl of agony rings and echoes in Raph's ears. He looks away, unable to witness this savagery any longer. Is this how he sounded just a few minutes ago?

The sound doesn't last too long, as it then turns into broken gasps and finally into silence. Xever's clanking feet step away. Raph follows the footsteps until his eyes find Turtle again. Even underneath the oversized dark gray sweatpants he wears, Raph can see the lower leg popping out of its hinge joint. Now it looks more like Turtle has an extra knee. Raph can't help but cringe at the sight.

"You see, turtle." Raphael's horrified eyes shift to Shredder. The bastard has the audacity not to look at all affected or bothered at Xever's actions. "The consequences when you don't cooperate."

He steps away from Raphael. This time Raph doesn't even hesitate. "Stay away from him!"

Shredder ignores him and taps Turtle's injured leg. Turtle lets out half a whimper before biting his lip.

"Stand up," orders Shredder. And to Raph's horror, Turtle's functional unsteady limbs start pushing against the rock, lifting his weight off the ground slowly.

He's not fast enough apparently. "Move!" Shredder thunders and a startled Turtle jumps and loses whatever amount of progress he'd made. He falls on his face.

There is panic in those darting brown eyes as he tries again. Thankfully, Shredder doesn't strike him as he struggles to his feet. The sick scumbag is probably enjoying the show. Raphael grits his teeth, momentarily blinded by seething fury. When Turtle does manage to rise, it is very poor. His weight supported in one wobbling foot and his arms shake at his sides.

Shredder studies him for a minute, as if appreciating Xever's work. He nods in satisfaction.

"You will make sure this one stays alive. Understood?" Shredder tells him pleasantly. Raph can almost see the smile behind the mask.

The mutant nods fervently to the ground.

"Understood?!" he demands again when there's no verbal response.

"Yes, Master," Turtle rasps and his shaking increases.

"Good." Shredder steps away and motions Xever towards the door. Once they are both out of the cell and the door slams shut, Turtle falls back against the wall with a half gasp, half moan of pure agony. His entire frame is trembling but he stays standing.

He takes a few minutes to gasp to himself, a painful grimace planted on his face. He shivers, trying to hold himself against the supporting rock wall. Then his gaze lifts and finds Raphael's.

Suddenly everything slows down. Up until now, Raph had been frozen on his feet. But it seems the adrenaline that boosted him up moments ago, is finally draining from his body. The floor is spinning... or maybe that's the ceiling.

He lands on his shell, against a vertical, cold, rough surface. Then his legs give out underneath him, and Raph slides down on the ground into a sitting position. Something trickles down his shoulder. His chest falls and rises in an unsteady rhythm. From the corner of his eye, Turtle limps, approaches. He has the first aid kit with him.

"Stay still, please." He hears Turtle's soft voice as he starts working on his shoulder. His breath is as uneven as Raph's; and honestly, Raph has no idea how those blurry hands can focus on their task, but somehow Turtle manages. He keeps going. The fluid on Raph's shoulder stops after a while. But then Turtle pours the acidic liquid into his wound. His shoulder bursts in pain. Every nerve is on fire. It's like getting torn open all over again.

Raph howls. But a hand immediately covers his mouth.

" _Don't,"_ Turtle begs, his eyes moist with his own pain. He carefully side-glances at the door while Raphael's cries cease.

"I'm s-sorry," Turtle says, drawing back just for a second, "I know it hurts, I –" A g _roan. "_ \- I p-promise it'll be over soon, Raphael. Just... just stay awake for me, please."

This is the first time Turtle's said his name. Raph wonders if he's known it all along or he'd just heard it. "You're not... working for him," Raph drawls between the space of awareness and unconsciousness.

"I'm afraid I am," he whispers as he finishes stitching the wound. He pulls the needle out. "Can you lean on me? I need to see how this looks on your back."

"Pretty sure it looks how it feels. Terrible," Raph slurs and laughs or intends to, as it ends up sounding more like a cough.

He could swear he saw the corners of Turtle's mouth lift in amusement.

Raph clenches his eyes shut, and with an immense amount of effort he leans against the turtle. His weight is apparently too much for Turtle's battered body and hurt leg. He lets out a pathetic little whine. His shaking increases, but he doesn't attempt to push Raph off of him.

"You've done this before," Raph mumbles with his forehead pressed against Turtle's chest and winces when the stitching starts once more, this time the pain coming from back of his shoulder.

"I've had some practice," Turtle says after a silence. He finishes up and grabs Raph by the shoulders, gently guiding him away from himself and towards the supporting wall. He lets out a shudder and takes out more bandages from the first aid kit. While he bandages Raph's wound, Raphael's gaze lands on the purple fabric box-like bag on the ground. He suddenly realizes, that is not a first aid kit. It's just an old cooler bag with a gray cross poorly sewed on its front face. Loose threads stick out on the corners of the lid. And the bandages are not the clean, professional ones April got for them at the local pharmacy. They're the ones Raph was used to seeing, before Splinter let them out of the sewers. Scraps of random fabric, delicately trimmed and cleaned from old clothing and rags.

"You made all this stuff?" Raph asks once his cellmate is done with the bandage.

Turtle looks up from his injured leg, then down at his self made aid kit. "I had to improvise," he says softly to the ground and his cheeks color at the old rolled bandages in his hands. Then his face lifts slightly. "I have access to some medicine – well chemicals. If Doctor Stockman is in a good mood, he lets me use the lab to make them." His face breaks into a genuine little smile. "I can even make compacted pills, it's a very simple process, actually; all you need is a handheld tablet punch press and... sorry..." He stops himself, lowering his gaze to back to his leg. One look at Raph's tired, pain-filled eyes is enough to stop his babbling. "I... I know you don't care..."

But this time it's the opposite. Raph does care about some of it. Suddenly, things are starting to click into place. "Stockman? Baxter Stockman?"

"You know him?" Turtle's gaze lifts up in a frown.

"Unfortunately," Raph replies rolling his eyes and even dares smiling, to lighten up the mood.

Turtle doesn't say anything. He just stares at his leg in somber silence, debating something. "I need your help," Turtle says at last with a look of utter acceptance. Raph is suddenly alert.

"Can you twist my leg so it's back to its original position?"

Raph's gaze finally rests on the said limb. He whistles lightly. "Xever really did a number on you."

Turtle frowns, annoyed. "Can you help me or not?"

Raph lets out a long, exhausted sigh. "I can try."

Turtle nods and as gently as he can, rolls up his sweatpants' left leg all the way up to his knee. Raph's eyes widen at the sight. He cringes. Without the fabric, Turtle's leg looks like a messy purple, green, black painting. The limb is completely covered in scars of all sizes and shapes. There's some older yellowish, brown bruises that taint the otherwise pale skin; clearly not caused by Xever's recent beat down. However, their sick fading color is nothing compared to the dislocated kneecap.

"Sadistic bastards," Raph growls under his breath and ignores the puzzled look Turtle gives him.

It is difficult to grab the leg with one arm only. Raph doesn't really want to bruise the limb any more than necessary, but some things just can't be helped. Turtle doesn't seem to complain.

When Raph's finally able to get a firm grasp on the misplaced lower leg, he takes a deep breath. Turtle is grabbing his femur with both hands, keeping it in place for Raph. "Ready?" Raph asks.

Turtle's shoulders are shaking in both anticipation and fear. He swallows hard and nods. In a quick movement, Raph pulls the limb to the side and it pops back where it's supposed to be. Turtle moans, biting his lips to keep from making a sound. There are tears in his eyes but he wipes them away with the back of his sleeve.

Raph groans and rests his head against the wall. He's exhausted, his shoulder is on fire but at least the stitches are still in place.

"Thank you," Turtle breathes and with some effort, climbs to his feet - _foot._

"Wait." Raph stops him. "Can you even walk?"

Turtle frowns down at his leg and places it on the ground as if testing its stability. He immediately regrets his decision and catches his balance with a hand against the wall. "I'll have to manage."

"The heck you will," Raphael snorts. "You can barely stand!"

Turtle ignores him and tries again. Stubborn guy. But he manages to stand on both legs this time. He looks ready to cry but at least he isn't falling. He gives Raph a tiny smug look before he starts limping over to the spilled painkillers. With a lot of effort he kind of crouches down, kind of crawls awkwardly, keeping his bad leg from bending. And one by one, Turtle picks the good pills up and bottles them.

Before Raph can snap at the idiot for putting so much effort on that leg, Turtle straightens and limps over. From his hoodie's front pocket he produces another water bottle. He places it on the floor and pockets the old, now empty one.

"Try to make them last," he says softly as he hands him the medicine. "And _please_ , don't let _him_ see them again."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _Aww Raph! You really do care! See I'm not evil. Turts are fine. Just in some pain but they'll survive. Hopefully._


	6. Family Matters

_**A/N:**_ _Hello my lovelies! Here's a little chapter for you all!_

 _Thank you so much guys for all the lovely reviews, favs and alerts! They mean the world to me!_

* * *

 **Family Matters**

* * *

The next time Raph wakes up, he is aching all over. Judging by the lighting coming from the window, he guesses it's evening. He's slept through the day. Meaning, it's been two full days since Shredder stabbed him, again. Cold wind chills his spine, and he lets out a dry cough.

Well, all in all it could be worse. At least he's not dead.

Reaching for his water bottle, he sits up with a heavy groan. On the way, his foot slightly shoves a metal surface. There's a tray with a bowl of rice and vegetables in front of him. He glances past it. There, sound asleep against an opposite corner from him, is Buddy.

It looks like he had been waiting for him to wake up, but his body had given up halfway. His head falls limp against his shoulder, his breathing is even and deep.

Raph doesn't want to wake Buddy. In fact, after their last encounter, he thought it'd be the last time he'd see the little guy again. But now that he is here, Raph realizes that, like Turtle, Buddy probably doesn't have a choice. If Shredder's able to order Turtle to be beaten into a bloody pulp, Raph knows the bastard could just as easily dispose of Buddy.

Shame heats up his face. He'd been an A-class jerk to Buddy the other day. The little guy had only wanted to help but Raph misunderstood his intentions completely. And after what happened to Turtle, Raph is not so sure these guys are the enemy anymore.

Buddy kicks one of his legs in his sleep. His arms move around as if trying to hold onto something invisible. He whines. He's dreaming; having a nightmare more likely.

"Aren't we all, Buddy," he says dryly. Oblivious to anything outside his dream, Buddy whimpers.

Sentiment. Fear combined with absolute rage fill his vision. Just the prospect of anyone hurting this kid makes Raph want to murder.

But he is not one to talk. After all, didn't he attack Buddy first? Raph sighs. He really doesn't want to keep the poor kid from his rest but Raph is just selfish like that. He needs redemption, and this may be his only chance.

"Psst-" he whispers, but Buddy doesn't stir. "Hey! Wake up!"

Buddy gasps and sits up awake. His sky blue eyes blink a couple of times. They're still somewhat drowsy, unfocused. He rubs them with both hands before fixing his exhausted gaze on Raphael and frowning. That's when Raph spots the nasty bruise on Buddy's cheek. The one he'd given him.

"Hey, Buddy," Raph says waving a hand awkwardly. Buddy shrinks into himself. He pulls up his hood and crosses his arms over his chest.

"No, wait... listen," Raph continues but Buddy shoots him a tiny glare.

"Okay, fair enough. You're mad at me, I get it." Raph lifts his arms in surrender. Buddy ignores him and looks the other way. "But this time I'm really sorry. For real!"

Buddy scoffs as if saying, 'Yeah right.'

And Raph is the one glaring this time. "Hey, I'm being honest here! I only said those things because I thought you were playing along with Shredder's sick game! I thought he was trying to trick me with you guys!"

At the mention of Shredder, Buddy immediately tenses; a flash of raw fear crosses his features. But all that trepidation vanishes the moment the word 'guys' escapes Raph's lips. Buddy leaps to his stomping feet. His arms and hands move so fast that Raph can barely see them.

"Hey! Slow down, man! I can't tell what you're saying - signing!" he demands and Buddy fumes but does stop his ranting.

In a swift motion he points an accusatory finger at Raphael.

"Me?" Raph asks and Buddy nods. Then he extends his wrist towards Raph's direction and makes a slicing motion with his other hand, as if it's cutting the flesh open, like a knife.

"Cut – Kill - Maim? No, _hurt!"_ Raph deciphers and Buddy nods once more.

Then he points at himself with his extended palm on top of his heart.

"You?" Raph says and understands. "Yeah, I know! I know I hurt you. I shouldn't have said those things or thrown the tray at you but-"

He stops because Buddy is waving his arms in the air shaking his head fervently. It might as well be a 'shut up and listen.' With a growl, Raph rests his back against the wall, indignant and more than a little furious. But he complies and stops talking. He owes Buddy that much.

Buddy repeats the signs. _You hurt me-_ then he starts signing that other word Raph didn't catch the other day, the okay-pinkie sign with both hands.

"I don't know what that means!" Raph yells finally losing whatever amount of patience he had.

Buddy stomps his feet on the ground and his eyes squint shut as if groaning. It reminds Raph of a kid's tantrum. When he opens them, Buddy's eyes shine with anger and pain as he starts gesturing at his left lower leg. He grabs his knee and lifts the limb in the air, then starts jumping around on the opposite one. Now, raising his hand, Buddy rests it on top of his right eye, covering it so that the only useful one is the left, just like Turtle when Raph punched him-

Then it clicks. Buddy is not mad at Raph because of what Raph had said or thrown, he is mad at Raph because of what had happened to Turtle.

 _'You hurt_ _ **my**_ -'

"Family," Raph says softly. Buddy nods and raises his arms towards the ceiling as if to thank the heavens Raph finally understands the word. It is almost comical. However, there is nothing reminiscent of a joke in Buddy's vicious expression.

"Hey, what happened to Turtle is not my fault, Buddy!" Raph defends himself but it sounds more like an excuse. He did hurt Turtle way before Xever stepped on his leg. "Maybe he didn't tell you the full story but I was trying to _help_ him when Xever broke his leg!"

Buddy shakes his head and advances on Raph quicker than lightning. He points at Raph's chest and Raph stands up to shove the finger away.

"It was not my fault!" he says but not even he believes the obvious lie. Turtle got punished because Raph broke his chain. Turtle lost his key. Xever beating up Turtle had been as much of a lesson for Turtle as it had been a way for Raph to betray Splinter. Still, he can't admit that. He can't. And so he falls back into his comfort zone whenever he's at fault. Raphael takes a furious step towards Buddy, challenging him. "Now back off!"

But Buddy is fuming. Unlike Turtle, who reeled back the moment Raph became a threat, Buddy is a suicidal idiot who's way in over his head. He also seems to have a backbone. He didn't act like this back when they first met. In fact, the brat was freaking out after Raph accidentally kicked him. Then, a thought pops from the back of his mind, clearing away these questions. _It's because he's not the one in pain. It's Turtle._

Raph is actually somewhat impressed that Buddy, someone who appears to be even more helpless than Turtle, can and will stand up to defend his... brother. Just like Raph would. Just like _Leo_ would.

In the end, Buddy does step back. He still glares daggers at Raphael but then slightly shoves the food tray towards Raph with the tip of his toes. He crosses his arms and waits. The frown in his face is clear. ' _Eat, so I can leave.'_

Raph's temper gets the best of him. This kid has already pushed all the right buttons to get him to this point. "You know what?" He kicks the bowl with rice and vegetables. The contents spill all over the place then splat against a wall and slide down towards the ground. "You can shove that tray up your Master's ass!"

Buddy is furious. He lunges at Raphael and tackles him to the floor. Suddenly he is clawing at Raph. Biting and punching very poorly but with a lot of spirit. Raph tries to strike him but unfortunately his shoulder wound is threatening to open again. He just has the energy to hold back Buddy and catch most of his pathetic punches.

This only makes Buddy moan in frustration. The little jerk is a leech. He keeps banging his fists at Raph – or attempts to - until the failed efforts become too much for his pride and strength. His arms tire, and eventually they stop altogether. Buddy steps off of him and kneels down on the floor instead. His head bows to the ground.

Raph sits up. Tense thick silence fills the room. Buddy sniffs. One last fist weakly lands on Raph's chest, and Buddy looks up. There are tears streaming down his freckled cheeks and suddenly a helpless whimper escapes him.

Raph is completely unprepared when Buddy falls against him. Both hands weakly bang on his plastron without any intention of causing real damage. Raph looks down. Buddy's frame is shaking.

Shocked, Raph listens to the muffled cries. He - he doesn't understand. _No_. He does. Buddy is hurting because Turtle is injured. It's Shredder's fault. But because no way can Buddy face the mercenary; the only person left to take his anger out on is Raph. And if Raph understands something, it's the importance of letting some steam out at least once in a while.

Buddy pushes away from him. He wipes his tears with the cuff of his sleeve. 'Sorry _,'_ he signs without looking at Raph.

"It's fine," Raph says and tries lightening up the mood. "Hey you've got a pretty good hook."

Buddy says nothing. He doesn't sign, smile or glare. He just sits there, staring miserably at the floor and Raph cannot stand the sight of it.

"My name's Raphael, Raph for short," he finds himself babbling but it works. The blue irises lift towards him, frowning in both confusion and hope. Buddy waits for him to continue. Raph looks around. He isn't sure what to do now. "So, uh... you have a name?"

Buddy nods and his hands move towards his mouth. He sets both pinkies on the middle of his lips then traces an invisible smile on his face. Raphael blinks. Buddy repeats the sign, slower this time.

"Great, that's... that's really nice, uh," he says with a forced grin, "how about I just keep calling you Buddy?"

And Buddy nods. Then his face suddenly brightens with an idea. He places a hand on top of his chest and signs his 'name' again. Before Raph can ask what the heck is he doing, Buddy's arm reaches forwards and the tip of his fingers brush Raph's plastron.

Buddy draws back and interlocks his hook-bent index fingers twice on top of his chest. The sign reminds Raphael of two links on a chain.

He frowns slightly. "Is that supposed to be my sign?"

Buddy snorts weakly and shakes his head. He lifts one hand in the air and waves it in a 'so-so' kind of motion.

Raph groans. Okay, so he's never been good at Charades. Sue him. "How about this?" he suggests in that fake enthusiasm tone only reserved for Fearless' dumb plans. "I can ask your _brother_ later." But as soon as the words leave his mouth he realizes his mistake.

Buddy's grin vanishes, remembering his hurt sibling. He doesn't seem to catch on the obvious annoyance behind Raph's words. Maybe he doesn't care. Or maybe... he's used to being treated this way.

'Okay,' signs Buddy, glancing down at his lap, pulls his limbs closer.

Raph feels like he just kicked a puppy.

"Look, I'm sorry about him, I didn't mean to get him in trouble," Raph says after an uncomfortable pause and he actually means it. If he had known what would happen, he would have never punched Turtle in the first place. He cringes at the memory of Xever torturing Turtle because of him. He must seem like a monster in the eyes of these guys... "He's going to be okay, right?"

Without a glance, Buddy lifts a fist. He bends his wrist up and down in the air. It almost looks like the fist is a nodding head.

Must be a 'yes'. There's some unexpected relief in the pit of his stomach. At least Turtle is gonna be okay. But this one-sided conversation thing is starting to get on his nerves. Raph's eyes dart back to Buddy. The kid looks smaller by the minute.

"Shredder's a bastard," he says under his breath.

At the mention of Shredder, Buddy reels back, flinching.

"So, he hurts you too," Raph bites out and clenches his fists.

Buddy squeezes his knees a little tighter to his chest, shuts his eyes and shrugs.

"No!" Raph says, making Buddy jump slightly. "That's not okay, man! Shredder's a jerk and he's treating you guys like garbage!"

Buddy says nothing at that. He's never said anything at all. What the heck did they do to him?

Raph can't stand this anymore. Faster than a blink he grabs him by the shoulders. Buddy startles. Round, terrified eyes dart back and forth. Maybe they're trying to find a way to escape from Raph's vice like grip.

But Raph doesn't care. This is important. And Buddy has to know, he needs to understand. "Listen, you guys don't have to put up with it." In a sudden burst of anxiety and desperation, he shakes Buddy a little bit too hard. Buddy lets out a little whimper, confused and scared. "Buddy, you gotta help me. You understand?"

Silence. Darn, unbearable _silence._

Ever so slowly, Buddy's breathing evens. He frowns up at Raph, like a curious child, processing his words. Then he reaches for Raph's trembling arms and lowers them gently to his sides. He points at Raph's chest then at his own blue eyes. ' _Look at me.'_

There is a pause before he signs again.

Buddy places a trembling right hand facing down in front of him. Then, with an unnecessary amount of force he slams two left handed fingers vertically, on top of his helpless right hand, as if he wanted to cleanly chop the fingers off.

Raph stares for what seems like an eternity. Trying to figure it out. "I don't-"

Buddy moans, his eyes practically begging for Raph to understand this one. He signs the messed up looking word again. And again. And again. The slight thumbing echoes in Raph's ears. It's as if Buddy is trying to nail the word into his head.

And Raphael can do nothing as the sign becomes as clear as the dread that takes over Buddy's shaking form. "Shredder."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _Sorry this chapter is kind of on the slow side... I just got it back from my beta and wanted it out of the way ASAP. I will pick up the pace soon. Next chapter will be better... :(_

 _I'd appreciate any concrit, reviews, alerts, favs. So thanks so much guys for the support guys!_

 _Also, I know I'm leaving Mikey somewhat in the sidelines here. Don't worry, Mikey fans. I have something_ really _especial planned for the baby of the family. =D_

* * *

 **Some Sign Language:**

The word Mikey calls Raph by is 'Friend'.

Shredder's sign is a combination of the ASL words 'Master' and 'shred'.

Kudos if you can guess what Mikey's sign means! :D


	7. Interlude: Ototo

_**A/N:** Hello and welcome back my lovely turts! I'm so sorry for the delay with this chapter. I was out of the country and away from my computer for the past week! So, kudos to my beta ravenshell because she had this one ready in only two days!_

 _Thanks so much Guest, Cutegenius, CelandineGranger, BurnedIce0, BubblyShell22, Guest, CJtheStoryteller, Heather, MARSHMELLOWTOASTIE, Guest and grungekitty for leaving wonderful reviews! They make me happy!_

 _I just wanted to make a quick note about this chapter. This is the first of the few Interlude chapters. Interlude chapters are the ones that are **not** told from Raph's point of view._

 _I actually really enjoy writing them. They're a breather because, can you imagine what's like having Raph in you head all the time? Dear God. No wonder my head's been hurting as of late!_

 _Haha! Anyways, I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

 **Interlude: Ototo**

* * *

He stirs and rolls over on his side, shivering. It's colder tonight. Keeping his eyes shut he scrabbles for his blanket, but his fingers only meet rough stone, then they brush the edge of Onii's plastron. Weird. Where did his brother's hoodie go? With a yawn, he sits up. His vision is hazy at first but after a while everything's clearer. One glance at his surroundings makes his heart leap inside his chest then stop in midair. This isn't home. That's not his Oniisan. He fell asleep again. What time is it? A dim light penetrates the cell indicating nighttime. He hopes it's just been a few hours and not the entire night that he curled up next to Raphael.

Raphael.

 _Raph -_ he'd said to call him because now they're friends. Despite his initial panic, he can't help but beam in delight. He knew Onii was wrong about him!

Raph's still dreaming. He lays in a fetal position on the floor, snoring softly.

He studies the turtle's sleeping face. It's kind of weird that he wears a mask, especially since it serves no purpose whatsoever. It doesn't even hide his features like a proper hoodie does. So, what's the point?

He shrugs, deciding he'll ask Raph later. He still can't believe Master had found another turtle like him, like his oniisan. Raphael looks so much like them, and yet he's so – so _different._ And not in the good way, according to Onii.

" _He's reckless, and loud, Oto. Stay away from him,"_ Onii had told him. But Oto doesn't think so. He thinks – _What you think does not matter, you filthy, good for nothing, mute freak_. His shoulders drop and his eyes rest on his lap. Thinking is bad. But he can't help it.

Raph may be loud, and _dangerous._ But he likes him. There's just something about him. He knows, deep down under all that anger and frustration there is a kind and compassionate turtle, just like Onii.

He leans towards Raph's sleeping form. Then pokes his good shoulder.

"G' away, Leo," Raph mumbles recoiling deeper into a ball.

He contains a snort. Raph's voice sounds funny when he's not pissed off! Wait.

Leo. He's heard it before. Yes. Raph had said this name earlier, among all the screaming. He smiles. He likes the name Leo. But 'Buddy' is _way_ better. He grins. Buddy. He's never had a real name before but he kind of likes it.

He wonders who Leo is, though. _Raph's brother, Oto._ Onii's voice supplies inside his head. Oh, right. Onii _had_ said something about Raph having a brother. That is so awesome! They all have brothers! That means that if Leo is a turtle like them, then they can be friends too! If the chance presents itself, of course.

He dismisses the idea. That's not important right now. He just needs to make sure Raph eats something before heading back home. Glancing sideways, his eyes spot the spilled rice and veggies. He shrugs; he'll eat that later. At least he remembered to bring more bread. It's safely hidden inside his hoodie's front pocket. He'd had a feeling Raph wouldn't be in a friendly mood after their last encounter.

Buddy pokes him again. Nothing.

He frowns. Raph doesn't look too good. He wonders if his shoulder is hurting. Maybe it needs its bandage changed. His fingers brush the wound. Raph groans in his sleep but doesn't stir. He's not waking up. In a slight panic Buddy shakes him, harshly this time, but Raph doesn't wake.

Buddy touches his forehead. _Oh no_. Onii is _not_ going to be happy. No, he can still help. Buddy picks up the water bottle, he unscrews the cap and gently presses the bottle's mouth against Raph's pale lips. The liquid dribbles down his chin. No, no. He exhales loudly, frustrated. Wild bright blue eyes dart around the cell, as if the answer would magically appear.

Buddy stands up and runs towards the door. He opens it slightly and peeks his head out. There's no one outside. That's all he needs.

He slips out of the room, swift and light on his feet. Closing the door as soundlessly as possible, Buddy doesn't even bother locking it. He just steps into the empty corridor and rushes to their home. It's just across the hall, feet away from Raphael's room.

He bursts in and finds Onii sitting on the floor, surrounded by bits and pieces of what used to be the old broom that Buddy had gotten from the kitchens yesterday morning. The door slams shut behind him and Buddy cringes. He'd forgotten about the door closer.

Onii's head snaps up. A wide, fearful expression in his face. His arms push against the bamboo rug as if wanting to lift his weight up and rise to his feet in their greeting position.

He stops and quickly relaxes once he sets eyes on Buddy. Oniisan sits back down, breathing in relief.

'Ototo, it's just you. You scared me! What's up with all the noise?' he signs and goes back to the wooden broom he's destroyed.

Oto ignores the question as he approaches his oniisan and taps him on his good knee, calling his attention. 'Onii, I think I'm in trouble. You need to come right now! You have to help!' he signs panicked and far too fast.

"Wait, wait, wait, slow down!" he says lowly and places the wooden stick down to continue in their sign language. 'Are you hurt?' His eyes inspect Oto's frame as if to spot the usual bruises or gashes.

'No!' Oto replies. 'But I think _he_ is!'

'What?' Onii signs and lets out a helpless groan. 'Oto, please tell me you didn't go back into that cell.' But he already knows the answer.

All Ototo can do is send Onii the most sheepish, most innocent grin he can muster and sign quickly. 'I thought he might be hungry again.'

There's a pause as Onii stares dryly at his brother.

'Oto, it's dangerous, we talked about it,' Onii reasons and massages his temples. 'What if someone had seen you?'

'But no one did! Look, I'm sorry, okay?' Oto signs. He had just wanted to help. He didn't mean to make his onii mad or make Raph sick.

'Ototo, I know you want to help Raphael, but there's not much we can do,' he signs. 'Please, you're only going to make things worse if you keep bringing him our food. Master will find out and he's going to blame _you._ I can't... I won't be able to protect you.'

Oto grunts in frustration. He can take care of himself. It's not like this is the first time they've bent the rules a little bit! Besides, Raph is a turtle just like them! Isn't Onii a little bit curious about where he came from? 'Master said not to let him die and that's what I'm doing!'

Onii's mouth curves downwards into a tiny snarl. 'Master ordered _me_ not to let him die. He never said anything about _you_ bringing him food!'

'He didn't order you to give him the painkillers and you did anyways!'

'And you saw what happened!' Onii gestures at his messed up leg. Then his expression softens. 'I don't want something bad happen to you, Oto. You... you shouldn't have gone in there again!'

'Why? It's not fair!' he asks, his hands dragging each word. Onii gets to make friends but he's not allowed? He likes Raph!

" _Because_ , Ototo, he's not our friend! He's just another prisoner!" Oniisan says and signs at the same time, losing patience at last. He only does this when he really wants Oto to understand something.

'Well, _someone_ had to feed him!' Master wanted Raph not to die right? _Well, guess what, dummy? You need food not to die._

At this, Onii's eyes fill with shame and regret. 'You're right. I'll give him something tomorrow... they said I could check on him after work.'

And that's when Oto remembers why he came here in the first place. 'No. We have to go right now!'

'What?' Onii frowns in suspicion. 'Ototo, what did you do?'

'I didn't do it! At least, I didn't mean to. I... that doesn't matter!' Raph needs Oniisan right now. They can't waste any more time. 'He needs your help! I woke up and he wasn't moving! And now, I think he really _is_ dying! He's dying, Oniisan!'

'What? What do you mean he's dying?' His onii seems to understand how serious the situation is.

Oto shakes his head. 'I don't know! He was fine earlier, talking and yelling too!' He is trembling and feels a soft whimper leaving him. Raph can't die. He can't.

'Calm down, Oto,' Onii signs then picks up the long piece of wood. Ototo hadn't noticed before, but that's no longer a broom stick. It's taken him hours, a lot of their old bandages and some tape from the lab but Onii has finally turned it into a proper crutch. With its help, Onii manages to stand. His signing is compromised now though, as his hand is busy holding onto the crutch. "It's gonna be okay," he whispers.

Oto nods and picks up their 'hurt box'. He places the long strap over his shoulder and the first aid kit hangs across the front of his hoodie. 'He's gonna need it,' he signs and Onii nods.

Raphael is exactly where Ototo left him. His chest falls and rises slowly. His bruised body looks even paler under the poor light coming from the window. Oto can only whine at the sight.

Onii ignores him and sits down with some effort to examine his patient.

"He has a fever," Onii explains as he picks up a bottle from their hurt box. "Oto, I need you to get me some clean water and the leftover honey we had. I think I left it on the counter. His shoulder's infected."

Oto nods and does as he is told. He slips back into their home and grabs a plastic bottle of their boiled water from the table. He sighs sadly, as his eyes fix on the last bit of their honey resting on the counter like Onii had said.

No. Oto shakes his head and snatches the container. Raph needs it more than they do now. He learned long ago that honey is not only a delicious treat, reserved for those especial occasions when they've been good enough to earn it, but it's also helpful when dealing with infected wounds from Master's punishments. And Raph could really use it right about now.

Full of determination to help his friend, Ototo returns to Raph's room. As he sets the items down next to his brother, he taps Onii's shoulder. 'Is he going to be okay?'

Onii looks back at Raph. "I think so."

It feels like a thousand years before Onii is satisfied with his work on Raph's shoulder. Now the only thing left to do is wait. By the end of it, Oto is pacing around the room, biting his nails.

Onii sighs sending Oto a hopeful grin. 'Maybe I should stay for the night on guard, just in case.'

'No,' Oto signs back immediately. 'No way, this is my fault and besides, you're hurt!'

'How is it your fault?' Onii asks, frowning. 'You didn't make him sick.'

This time Oto's gaze cast down, to his feet. Then he moves away and Onii's eyes notice the bowl of rice and veggies spilled all over the floor.

Oniisan groans. 'Is he _ever_ going to eat anything you bring him? We can't keep cleaning the soup off the walls.'

Oto cringes at that. If he hadn't come in here in the first place, Onii wouldn't have had to clean up the food. Raphael wouldn't have broken his chain and Onii's leg wouldn't be hurt.

'I'll take care of it.' Oto signs guiltily rushing out of the room, towards their home. When he comes back he carries the mop and a bucket with water and soap. He places them against the wall for a moment. Then Oto kneels down to grab the discarded dish from the floor and picks as much of the rice and vegetables as he can, pouring them into the bowl. When he is done, he sets the food aside to clean up the residue on the ground.

'There. Good as new,' he signs appreciating his cleaning job with a huge grin. Then he lifts up the bowl and manages to sign awkwardly while holding onto it. 'And look! I saved dinner!'

Onii shakes his head, smiling helplessly. A wave of relief washes over Oto. Oniisan is happy, everything will be okay now.

'You can have it,' Onii signs, 'they gave me some bread earlier.'

And by 'gave' Oto knows that means the soldiers threw it on the ground for his onii to pick up. He nods and sits down. Raph's breathing becomes the loudest sound in the room. It starts getting darker by the minute and cold wind enters through the window. They both shiver.

'We should get him a blanket,' he tells Onii, who shakes his head.

"They'll suspect something," Onii whispers back and he straightens up. With a groan he takes off his hoodie and places it on top of Raph's chest. "There. This way, I can take it back at any time and no one will ever know."

Without his hoodie Oto can see all the scars that trace up and down his older brother's thin arms, marking him as his Master's. Even in this faint lighting, he can see Master's logo branded on his Onii's shoulder. The dark green protuberance stands out, rough and ugly, among the more superficial thin lines of blades and whip. Instinctively, his hand reaches for his own burnt scar and shudders. Branding had been one of the worst punishments.

He taps his hand against the ground twice so Onii would look at his signing.

'It was my fault,' he admits with a sigh, 'that he didn't eat the food. I sort of yelled at him, because of what happened to you and he – he kind of took it the wrong way. Maybe if I hadn't been mean he would have eaten it... maybe he wouldn't be sick right now.'

'It's not your fault, Ototo. That shoulder's been infected for at least a whole day,' signs Onii, then mildly glares at Oto, though the annoyed stare doesn't last long. He never seems to be able to stay mad at Oto for more than ten minutes. 'But you shouldn't have triggered him. You know it's not his fault Xever hurt me.'

'I was mad!' Oto defends himself. 'And he did punch you! Besides, I said sorry... honest!'

'That doesn't matter anymore, okay? I'm going to stay here tonight, keep an eye on him,' Onii's hand finishes and rests on his chest then points at the door before signing again. 'You need to go back home and get some rest.'

'No!'

Onii frowns, the expression is almost pleading. "Oto..."

'I said no!' Oto slams his feet on the ground. Raphael stirs and Onii turns around.

"Mm 'eo?" Raph moans.

Onii places a wet piece of cloth on his forehead. "Don't speak," he says in his best doctor's orders voice.

"...Where 'm I?" The words slur out and his elbows push against the ground. He tries to sit up but Onii places a firm hand on his plastron, stopping him and lowering him back down.

"You're -" Onii looks around, because what could possibly be a good answer for that question when Raphael is sick and in a dungeon? "-not home."

"W-water," Raph orders in a groan.

Raph opens his mouth but instead of water, Onii drops a spoonful of medicine inside. At this, Raph winces in disgust and actually attempts to punch Onii. Thankfully, his fists are too weak to reach his brother. Oto grimaces in understanding. That stuff is nasty.

"Screw you, F-fearless." Raphael coughs trying to spit the medicine out.

Onii rolls his eyes, he lifts the water bottle to Raph's lips and gently guides the liquid into his mouth. "Easy," he says, taking the bottle away when Raphael tries to drink all the water in one gulp. "You have a fever, but you're going to be okay now."

He offers the water once more and this time Raph obeys.

Once he's done swallowing, Raph falls back down against the floor. He smiles up at Onii and his eyes blink twice, unfocused. "I love ya, bro."

Oto supresses a giggle. Onii reels away, lost for words. He glances at Oto then at Raph again. "I'm... I'm not your-" But Raphael's eyes are closed now. He is out once more.

'He thinks you're Leo,' Oto signs after a while with a small smile. 'His brother.'

"He's delirious," Onii mutters, mostly to himself. He shakes his head. 'It doesn't matter. You need to leave now.'

Ototo's grin falls. 'Why? I want to stay! It's not fair!'

'Oto, can you take care of Raphael if he wakes up in the middle of the night? Do you know what to give him?' he signs. Oto says nothing. Onii is right, as usual. So Ototo just looks away from his know-it-all sibling and towards their 'hurt box'. Onii pats the floor calling his attention once more. 'Can you _talk_ to Raphael in case you need to keep him awake? What if he wants something? He's too sick to try and decipher what you're signing.'

'I can still help,' he signs pathetically because it's so obvious that he can't. _Useless, little mutt. I bet it's too stupid to even talk._

'No,' Onii signs with empathy, noticing his little brother's growing misery. But that doesn't stop him from continuing in a low commanding voice, as if proving the point. "I'm your oniisan, and that means sometimes I have to pick for the both of us."

Oto pouts but then his face brightens in triumph. 'Work! You have to work tomorrow!'

'Ototo, we have to work every day.' Onii gives him a dry, condescending stare then he shakes his head quickly. 'And I'll figure something out. Now go, get some sleep. _You_ have work tomorrow too, remember?'

'Yeah but-'

'No 'buts', Ototo. Go to bed,' Onii smiles a gap toothed grin when finally, a grumpy Ototo stands up. 'And don't forget to brush your teeth.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Oto signs and moves to pick up their belongings, resting in the corner of the room. Like a stubborn child, he stomps his feet on his way out, balancing the bowl of rice, mop and bucket as he goes.

The cell door closes gently, leaving Onii alone with the prisoner.

"It's better this way, anyways," he tells Raphael in a sad whisper. "He shouldn't get too attached."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Hugs you all._


	8. Different Types of Masters

_**A/N:** New Year! New chapter! Merry Christmas, happy New Year and happy belated birthday to me! All in one month! Haha!_

 _Apologies for the long wait, my dears. As you must know, life happens! Next chapter shouldn't take this long... hopefully! He-he!_

* * *

 **Different Types of Masters**

* * *

Raph finally wakes up sometime close to noon. Or so the natural clock on the wall, otherwise known as that taunting little bastard hole inside his prison cell, tells him.

"Well, screw you too," he mutters at it and tries to sit up.

Yep. Try he does.

Everything hurts. A wave of nausea lurches inside his throat and despite the disgust, he gulps it down. The bile settles like mud inside his empty stomach. Raphael shudders. At least, things make sense today. He'd had the weirdest dream last night. Leo'd been here, and so had Buddy and Turtle. He'd asked for water and what the jerks had given him had the unforgettable flavor of worms and algae.

Talk about an unwanted trip down the memory lane. He hadn't eaten that since he was nine. He'd had enough of the sewers. Snuck out of the lair. And Leo, being the good teacher's pet he was, had followed Raphael with the excuse of stopping him. Raph chuckles at the memory. Not even Fearless could resist the temptation of finally seeing the world once they had reached topside.

Sensei had been furious. He'd gone crazy. Somehow, their trip had ended up with Leo and Raph beating up a couple of lame street thugs, which of course had also led to their ninja cover being blown. Seriously, you leave one throwing star lying around and the whole country goes nuts!

And it was just their turtle luck that Shredder had happened to see that particular news broadcast.

Whatever. It had still been totally worth it. Their little adventure had also led them to April, not to mention their first pizza slice ever. Goodbye and good riddance turtle food! Raph licks his lips longingly, however the cruel reality sends him crashing back down onto the dungeon's cold floor. And he grimaces at the trace of the algae and worms he finds in his mouth instead.

Eww. Must have been some dream to actually taste the residue of the stuff. But that's impossible. Unless...

Great! Now he's losing his mind.

He's been inside this cell for about a week. Less than ten days and he's cracking already...

Seriously. What the _frak_ is going on?

He is done with Shredder's 'scheme'. If there _is_ one to begin with. This whole thing makes less sense by the second. Not that Raph wants to be in any more pain than he already is, but this... _passiveness_ coming from the Foot Clan of all people, puts him on edge.

Yes, they had stabbed him and they even tortured one of their own, but it's not like Shredder couldn't have done more. He claims to want Splinter's location, but he doesn't force it out of Raphael.

Not really.

And Raph can't admit how nervous that actually makes him. This whole thing. The food, the medicine... _them._ It's not right. Something's off. Shredder's supposed to be a ninja. He's a 'hands on' type of person, like... like Raph.

 _No._ Raph growls, shaking his head violently. He's _nothing_ like that maniac.

It's not like Raphael is gonna start torturing people then giving them food and medicine the next minute. What a bipolar nutcase.

And... what was up with Turtle cleaning his cell? What's up with... _them_? What is Shredder planning? "What does he want from me?"

"I thought it was obvious."

Holy crud. Raph's head snaps up, alert. Someone put a bell on these guys. This is the second time he hasn't noticed their presence right away. He scoffs, berating himself. Some ninja.

Turtle sits against a wall not far away from him. His arms are crossed on top of his chest. His left leg is extended towards Raph. It's tied to a piece of wood to keep it immobile in a self made cast on top of his pants. There's a makeshift crutch, pieced together from what Raph can assume are scraps of wood, leaning on the wall next to him.

"He wants to know where your Master is," he continues matter-of-factly. "So, why don't you give it to him?"

Raph glares back and finally manages to sit up.

"I wouldn't move so much if I were you," Turtle warns. "You still have a slight fever."

Raph snarls at Turtle, not giving a crud about what the jerk has to say. He continues on his attempt to stand. This only makes Turtle straighten up, his brow scrunches in worry. "Hey, I'm serious," he stammers a little. "You'll open your wound again! Please, Raphael."

Raph sighs in defeat, sitting back down. He's too exhausted to move anyways. "You know my name."

"No kidding, Einstein."

A smile reaches the corners of his mouth at the Déjà vu of it all. He probably deserved that one. So he lets the comment slide and shrugs. "So, what's yours anyways?"

The question isn't hard. And yet, an uncomfortable silence settles in the room. Turtle's cheeks color, and he frowns, looking anywhere but at Raphael. "I don't–I don't have one," he manages.

Raph raises his brows, incredulous. "Really?"

Turtle's shoulders square, tense and vicious. He meets his eyes defiantly, nodding once. "Really."

"Okay, fine, sheesh…" Raph raises his arms in a gesture of surrender. "What about the little guy? He said he had a name, something like—" He does the sign clumsily and Turtle's mouth splits into a grin. He actually chuckles a little.

"That's the sign for 'smile'," he says, "his _sign_ is like this." He uses his pinkies to draw the invisible smile on top of his mouth instead of his index fingers, like Raph had.

"And that means..." Raph waves a hand in the air, waiting for him to elaborate.

"It doesn't have to mean anything, it's just my Ototo's sign," Turtle replies.

"Ototo, little brother."

Turtle slouches forwards. "You speak Japanese?"

"I understand most of it. Sensei says we could speak it when we were kids, but I guess we forgot at some point," Raph shrugs then scratches his neck. "Leo picked it back up, though. Now... man! Now, he's fluent. My dad's Japanese."

"Oh," Turtle says shortly. He's clearly interested in Raph's family, but there's some apprehension in his voice too. Even a hint of jealously? Huh. He never expected to be on the receiving end of that one. Funny.

"So, do you have a sign? Like your brother?" he asks.

Turtle sighs. He lifts up his right hand and taps the side of his forehead twice then turns his hand around, to show Raph an open palm.

"What does that mean?" Raph frowns.

"It doesn't matter." Turtle pulls his good leg towards his chest and looks away. "It's not a real name, it doesn't mean anything."

Raph stops staring. He kind of feels bad for the guy. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Turtle says and picks up his crutch. He approaches and sits down in front of Raph. He pulls out a loaf of bread and offers it. "Ototo left this for you. Eat at least half of it, I don't need your stomach empty before you take an antibiotic."

Raph doesn't need to be told twice. He can't help but stuff the whole thing in his mouth and practically gulp it one bite. He sighs, leaning back against the rock wall when he's done. His eyes close in sudden bliss because his stomach is no longer a hollow pit. Buddy is a freaking angel.

When his eyes crack open again, Turtle's looking at him with the most awful expression in his sad brown gaze. Raphael groans and shame fills him. He doesn't need Turtle's pity. He never asked for it. So he shoots daggers at Turtle, daring him to utter a single word on the matter.

And thankfully, Turtle drops it. Smart dude. He picks up a little bottle from the first aid kit and pours its contents into an old soup spoon. "This is for the infection," he hands Raph the spoon.

Raph winces at the horrid stench but takes the medicine anyways. It is foul and sour.

Turtle's hand cups a pill now. "And this is for the fever."

Raph glares. "I swear, you're more paranoid than Leo. Dude, you're more paranoid than Splinter and that's saying something."

"If that means making sure you don't die, then good," Turtle says pushing the tablet towards Raph.

"I'm fine," he argues. He picks up the water bottle and takes a long drink to rinse the awful taste of the previous medicine away.

"You can barely stand."

"Oh, you're one to talk!" he snaps and pokes Turtle on the chest.

Turtle shoves Raphael's finger away and grabs his temples, frustrated. "The point is, you're sick. And if you want to last a little longer around here, you need your strength. So take the darn medicine and _please,_ shut up."

Raph has to commend himself for how long he has gone without punching this guy. And Leo says he's not patient. He snatches the pill from Turtle's hand and quickly shoves it into his mouth. With the tablet still resting on his tongue, he continues, "You know, I shouldn't have to go through this crud. Master Splinter's ancient mantras would've fixed me by now."

"Sorry, I left my magic wand back at the lab. Swallow."

Raphael says nothing as he gulps down the thing. Jerk.

"Take the next dose when—"

"When it gets dark, ya-dah, ya-dah, I know the drill, pal. I'm not stupid." He waves his hand at Turtle, like he is dismissing some sort of servant.

Turtle's cheeks flare. Indignant, he huffs. "Could've fooled me."

"The heck did you just say?" Raph snaps and fists his good arm, getting ready for a punch.

"Why are you so loyal to him?" Turtle counters right away.

Raph draws back. The sudden change of topic takes him completely off guard. "What?"

"This Splinter character," Turtle says rolling his eyes. His face full of accusation and even a hint of frustration. As if this whole thing is somehow Raph's fault. "He's your _Master,_ is he not? Why are you protecting him? It's not like he can get to you down here. He _can't_ hurt you. _Master Shredder_ can. You're only making things worse for yourself."

Okay, now he _really_ wants to beat the green off this guy. But for Buddy's sake he stops himself. "You don't know what the heck you're talking about, so I'm warning you, better stop while you're ahead."

Maybe his face is intimidating, perhaps Turtle regrets his poor choice of words, or maybe he's smart enough to calm down. He actually sounds concerned when he speaks. "That may be so, but I'm still right about one thing. You're only making it worse. You're going to get yourself killed."

The fact that Turtle's worried about Raph's well-being means nothing to him. It's too late. Raph is too pissed to back off now.

"Well, if that's what it takes to get away from Shredder and his minions, like _you_ , then so be it!"

"No. _No."_ Turtle sits up straighter, suddenly towering over Raph. So the sucker's tall. Big deal. "If you keep this nonsense up, you're going to get _my_ brother killed. So suck it up and tell Master where your Splinter is!"

"No way! I'm never going to tell your precious _Master_ where _my_ father is! So _you_ suck it up and mind your own business!"

At this, Turtle's expression widens in surprise then falls altogether. He halts. Crouching back down, his shoulders hunch with a bit of shame. Silence falls upon them like a curse.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't know. I thought—" Turtle starts then looks away and mumbles, "They said he was your Master."

"Yes, he's my ninjutsu Master," Raph says crossing his arms, more relaxed but there's still some apprehension dripping from his voice. "But he's also my dad."

Turtle frowns, honestly curious. "Ninjutsu Master?"

"Yeah," says Raph rolling his eyes because the answer's obvious. "He teaches me Ninjutsu." He pauses when Turtle gives him a puzzled stare. Raphael sighs. "Ninjutsu, man. The ways of the ninja. You know, fighting, stealth, bad-assery." He smiles a little and even makes a few kata motions with his arms. Turtle's eyes follow them, but the blank expression means he's either unable to comprehend the concept of Ninjutsu or just uninterested. Raph's pretty sure it's more along the lines of the latter. He raises a brow. "It's what the Foot Clan are, it's what Shredder is. Ninja."

"I didn't know there was more than one type of Master," he mumbles and Raph finally understands what he means.

"Dude, no. Master Splinter is not like _your_ Master. We call him Master as in teacher not as in... He's–he doesn't treat us like that, okay?" He motions to Turtle's injured leg.

Turtle's hands touch the self made cast in instinctual protection. "That must be nice," he says.

Raph suddenly feels really bad for Turtle. It must be really hard to live with the Foot. Get beat up daily and stuff. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," Turtle drawls but there's a tiny smile playing on his lips.

"Man, what is it with you? Are you like some kind of Grammar Police or something?"

"Is that the question? Also, that's not what that means."

Raph shakes his head. Exasperated. "Whatever, pal. Listen. The thing is–I mean... Why do you guys even stay here? You seem pretty much free to walk in and out of these cells. Why not leave?"

"And go where?" Turtle asks looking at him like that's the stupidest idea he's ever heard. "I don't think humans would be very accepting of two monsters like us, besides—"

At the M word Raph can't stand it anymore. "Hey, hey, hey! Wait, a minute! Don't tell me Shredder told you that you guys are –monsters?"

Turtle shrugs but the crude sadness in his eyes betray him. "It's not like he's lying."

"Oh, yes he is!" Raph snaps. "If you guys are monsters, then that means Leo and I are too. Do you think I'm a monster?"

"Well, technically—"

"Shut up. You are not the monster, he is! He's the one who beats you and abuses you and—"

"Raphael," Turtle lifts his arms as if dealing with a wild animal. "Lower your voice, someone may come in." There is a pause as he contemplates Raph's furious expression, trying to understand. "I don't know why this upsets you so much. It's fine, we're used to it."

Sewer apples. Does it get any better at all? "That—!" he roars, then clears his throat, lowering his voice into a hiss, "That doesn't make it right, Pal."

"Well, it's the way it is," he says. "Besides, even if we were feeling crazy and suicidal enough to _try_ to get out... Master is too powerful. He'd find out."

"No, he _won't._ He will _never_ find out," Raph says, pure determination dripping from his tone.

"What?" Startled brown eyes study him. He's looking at Raph like he's not sure if he heard correctly what Raph's words are clearly implying. He swallows thickly. "What are you trying to say, Raphael? What does that mean?" he stammers.

And Raph chuckles because he's one hundred percent sure _Pal_ knows exactly what he's talking about. The opportunity is too good to pass up. His excitement is too great and he can't help himself.

"It means," Raph smiles placing both hands on Pal's shaking shoulders, "I'm getting you both out of here."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _Doctor Donnie is having none of your shit, Raph._

 _Thank you so much to everyone who read, alerted, faved and esp. reviewed last chapter, guys._

 _I also want to make a shoutout to a lovely_ _Guest_ _. Man, I wish I could reply to your beautiful review last chapter, sweetie. Thank you! Your questions are not annoying at all. In fact, you are asking the RIGHT questions. I was wondering when someone was going to pick up on some of those. ;)_

 _One last thing! I've decided to put my lil art skills to some good use and I've been doodling scenes of this story! You can find them on my DeviantArt under the account_ _FlauxPG_ _and on Tumblr_ _flaux-pg_ _. Some of them take place in future chapters but there's no visible spoilers! I do hope you like them though._

 _Let me know what you think!_

* * *

 **Some Sign Language curiosities:**

Mikey's sign is a variation of the word 'smile'. So... for those of you who thought the sign meant smile, you were right! :D Kudos and cookies to you!

Donnie's sign is a variation of the word 'smart'.


	9. Interlude: Oniisan

_**A/N:** Thanks so much for all the feedback, my dears! Hope you like this one!_

* * *

 **Interlude: Oniisan**

* * *

He has to be kidding. "You've got to be kidding."

Raphael leans his shell back against the stone wall. His face settles into the smuggest of grins as he passes over one ankle on top of the other. The chain rattles in an efficient and clear disagreement. As predicted, Raphael doesn't care.

"Nope, this is the real thing, pal," he drawls the words so cockily, as if he's some sort of knight in shining armor or something. Of course, he's undoubtedly _not_ chained to a wall inside Master's inescapable fortress. And no, he doesn't have twenty-six stitches in his shoulder and fourteen in his back.

Onii quickly skims the wound. It's a surprise the stitches are still in place. But with this patient, he never knows how long they'll remain that way. Onii can simply hope.

"Right," he replies, "and do you mind sharing how are you going to break free, fight off Master's army of men _and_ mutants on your own, and escape with two turtles that–mind you–cannot even win a thumb fight?"

Raphael's expression falters a bit. He picks at the skin right above his collarbone. "Uh... Okay, I admit it. It's gonna be hard."

"Raphael." He raises a firm hand in front of him. "Hard is an understatement. This is more along the lines of impossible."

"You're a true optimist aren't you, pal?" He quirks a brow behind his red mask.

"I'm just stating the facts."

"Your facts suck," Raphael snaps back, a delusional smile plastered on his stuck-up face. "Look, my bro Leo is probably looking for us like nuts as we speak."

"He's looking for _you, not us,_ and even then, I don't see him showing up anytime soon!" Onii counters. Is there any common sense in that foolish head of his?

"And how would _you_ know?" Raphael rolls his eyes, his anger rising in defense.

From his sitting position, Onii scoots away only an inch. His hands get prepared to cover himself in case of any unforeseen attack. He doesn't need any more bruises this week.

Raphael notices this and thrusts out his irritation in a deep breath. "Listen, pal, you don't know Fearless, like I do. Seriously, he goes nuts every time I go out, even if it's for pizza. He's brutal _and_ a pain in the shell. That means he needs to find me, to lecture me."

Onii stares at him with his mouth slightly ajar. It's like he's talking to the walls or worse, Stockman. He's not going to listen unless given solid confirmation of his lunacy. Oniisan leans to grab his crutch and forces himself up. He needs to get this meathead to see reason, somehow. He offers a hand to Raphael. "Can you stand?"

"Faster than you. That's for sure." Raph smirks and truly does stand quicker than him, but Onii knows better. There's dizziness all over that face as he wobbles on his feet.

Onii sighs and grabs Raphael's arm to bring it over his shoulders. A few steps later they stand before the tiny round window of the prison. The chain on Raphael's anklet stops them a few feet away from it, but not too far as to prevent an adequate view. The window is too high for Raphael, forcing him on his toes to get a peek of the world outside. But the expected result is the same. All evidence of smugness fades in a matter of seconds.

Raphael has gone so quiet it's eerie. Onii can make out his own heart pound audibly, almost as if it's hurting. He glances away from the display and diverts his muddy eyes to the ground, where they belong.

"This is the closest we've ever been to New York," Onii says.

Raphael takes his arm off him and moves toward the window. He can hardly take one step before the chain protests. He doesn't even notice.

"...No," he utters as he takes in the absurdity of his not so flawless escape tactic. "What the heck?" He gestures towards Onii in a hostile motion and indicates at the amount of water before them. New York's skyline is scarcely discernible with the amount of fog today. "We're supposed to be in Shredder's lair!"

"And we are," Onii says with a discreet nod, "it's just not the one inside the city."

Raphael is at a loss for words. His fists shake at his sides. "No!" he growls. "This is _not_ how it's supposed to be! Leo doesn't even _know_ about this place! Where–where the heck are we?" he demands and Onii backs off, too familiar with Raphael's hot temper. Oto's forehead still carries the outcomes of it.

"O-on an island, I think," he replies, glancing at Raphael like he's an unstable bomb about to blow at any minute. "I-I'm not sure, I've never—we're not allowed outdoors." He finishes and his eyes rest fondly on the window. He drops his gaze. It's better not to think about something that can never be. And yet, and yet he can't help but hope—wish—that perhaps, maybe one day they'll let them go out the fortress. If only for a little while.

He swallows thickly and shakes his head. He shouldn't have shown the stupid window to Raphael.

Laughter interrupts his thoughts. Onii turns to see a deluded grin rising on Raphael's face. He is more than a little scared.

"It all makes sense, now," he beams and grabs Onii's shoulders. "Don't you see it, pal?"

Onii shakes his head. "What I'm seeing is your fever coming back. I think you need to lay down."

He lets go, fierce now. "I don't need shell! This is perfect!"

"Yeah, I'm going to leave now," he begins but Raphael pushes him to the ground.

"No! You sit down and listen!" He ignores Onii's grunt as his sore leg protests in pain and sits down in front of him. "It all makes sense now, see? Why Shredder's gone? Xever and Tiger Claw too! No wonder he doesn't come here every day! They can't stay here all the time! It's too far away from the city! Now, Shredhead's one controlling nutcase, he needs to be close to his effing empire to rule it all! Oh, the paranoid bastard!" He laughs wildly.

"There's still _guards_ ," Onii informs him. "And you're wrong, not all of them are gone. Master Xever is here, so are Master Tiger Claw _and_ Doctor Stockman. The only reason they haven't paid you a visit is because Master hasn't ordered them to."

Raphael scoffs. "Yeah, like 'Doctor' Stockman can harm a fly."

Heat rises to Onii's cheeks, flustered. Is he even listening?

"He has his M.O.U.S.E.R.S acting as guards as well," Onii tells him and this time Raphael frowns in heavy thought.

"Okay," he agrees to himself. Onii almost sighs in relief. The idiot finally understands how ridiculous this idea is. "Okay, this is good." He looks back at Onii with eagerness. "You have intel!"

"I have nothing!" Onii panics drawing back. "This isn't going to work, Raphael."

"Yes, it is, pal! Okay, does Shredder come in specific days? Does he have some sort of schedule or something?"

Master? Onii swallows. His hands threaten to shake but he manages to restrain them before it becomes too noticeable. His eyes move back and forth around the cell almost expecting Master to be prowling in the dark. "H-he- he used to... I mean, not since you got here."

Raphael nods. "Yeah, I guess that would make sense, I _am_ pretty life changing." He laughs at his own jest. "But what about before?"

Onii is really uncomfortable now. He can't help but look over his shoulder. It wouldn't be the first time someone had baited him to talk about Master behind his back. Unconsciously, he shuts his eyes. A shiver makes its way up his spine. He still has the scars of that calamity. No. He can't afford to think of Otosan now. Besides, this is different. Raphael isn't like that. He wouldn't do that, would he? This... this couldn't be a test, could it? A... a game? Raphael _was_ a prisoner... right? He – he wasn't one of _them,_ right? No. No. That's stupid. They never hurt each other, they only hurt Onii and Oto.

That is not true. Sometimes, in their impatience, they did hit Baxter Stockman.

Every human and mutant under Master's employ would wholeheartedly accept any circumstances if Shredder commanded them.

Oh no. What if... what if it's all a trick? After all, Master has questioned his intentions before. _You can't trust monsters._ His frame shivers a bit before attempting to look up, but making sure he's not gazing directly into his superior's eyes. _Please don't be one of them._ "S-sir, I-I can't."

The grin falls off Raphael's face. It's followed with a frown. "What do you mean you can't?"

"It's-it's not right, sir," he adds and his voice falls back into a familiar yet safe whisper.

Raphael is not delighted with his response. His hands tighten dangerously at his sides, obvious rage scowling his mouth.

And for the fraction of a second, Onii prepares himself for a blow. He's provided an unwelcome reply. After something like that, pain usually follows. But Raphael doesn't hurt him. Yet his remark is far from pleased.

" _Sir?"_ Raphael's snout wrinkles into a sneer, as if he's just eaten something vile, rotten. "Who the heck do you think you're talking to, pal?" But his tone is not patronizing or even hostile. He seems truly worried, even disturbed. Either he's an extremely talented actor or...

 _He's not one of them._ Onii breathes out in relief. "I—sorry, Raphael," he responds quickly feeling a little silly now. He turns his flushed face to the side, averting eye contact. "I—I think I just spaced out."

Thankfully, Raphael doesn't reflect on the matter. But no amount of tangible pity and understanding is going to stop him from ranting again a second later.

"You know, I don't get it," he says. To his credit, his voice breaks out small in volume, though that instantly changes. Evident accusation drips from his harsh words. "Why are you protecting that bastard? After everything he has done to you? To your _brother_?"

"I'm _protecting_ my brother!" Onii loses control. His own voice rises a little bit. The shame from his stupidity moments ago, and Raphael's words hitting too close to home leave him vulnerable and exposed. Heavy tears threaten to fall; he tries blinking them out of existence but they don't appear to stop forming so he glances aside. "That's why— that's why I— I have to think of Oto." He inhales and wipes his face indignantly. He's not going to cry. Crying never solves anything. It doesn't help Ototo. It doesn't fix wounds. He... he doesn't know what's _wrong_ with him. His arms hug his middle. "Our lives may not be perfect, but at least... at least we are _living_."

"You're _surviving,_ " Raphael tells him and Onii lifts his eyes. Raphael rests a hand, strong and supportive, on top of his trembling shoulder; and despite all the intention of it, Onii can't bring himself to pull away. "I know you're scared, pal. But now it's your chance, yours and Buddy's. You could be _free."_

Freedom? What does that word even mean? Onii shakes his head.

"Let me help you," Raphael finishes, more quietly now.

There is such raw emotion in those green eyes. He can't look away. Could it be true? Is it possible? But what if they fail? What if they get caught? Onii would never forgive himself if something happened to his Ototo. But, what about Raphael? Oniisan is a lot of things, but he isn't stupid. If Raphael stays here, he's going to die. And the less dreadful alternative would be a life like theirs. Of servitude. Of woe and fear. Somehow, Onii doesn't think that'll be the case. Raphael is too spirited. Nothing would ever turn him like them.

 _He's dead either way,_ the cool-headed, cognitive side of him provides.

So, there's no point. _It doesn't matter._ Guilt rams inside him like toxin. Was he that heartless? That selfish, to stand by and do nothing? Just allow it to happen?

 _Coward._

Raphael should mean nothing to him. He's rude, he's loud, and he's violent. Him being here represents a constant danger to his naïve but well-meaning Ototo.

 _He's just another inmate._ A dark, low tone that seems remarkably like Master's whispers in his ears. _He was dead from the moment he got captured. There's nothing you can do about it, mongrel. Leave_ it _to die._

And yet...

Even after Onii had shackled him back to the wall and pressure-pointed him, even after he'd trapped him back here, Raphael doesn't treat them like the humans do. Yes, he's got a short fuse, and he's hurt Oto and him, but never out of boredom, never just because he _could._ It'd been out of confusion and hurt. Fear of an unfortunate position he had no control over, only a single purpose. _He... he just wants to go home._

He had attempted to stop Xever from hurting him.

He had _talked_ to Ototo. He treated his little brother like an equal.

However tactless and brash he may be at times, Raphael wants to help in his own way. He _cares._ It makes no sense. They hardly know each other. Why does he have to act so unreasonably? All of the sudden, protective? Why? Why did he have to care? Why did he have to be a turtle?

It doesn't matter, he realizes. The reason, the questions, the never-ending _noise_ inside his rambling head. None of it matters now.

Onii shudders. Even if the right choice is there, voicing it is a completely different matter. Sweat dribbles down his forehead but his mind and heart are made up. He meets Raphael's stare and takes a deep, determined breath. "I—"

The door bursts open.

Onii bolts to his feet, neglecting his crutch on the ground. He turns around just in time to catch a livid Baxter Stockman at the doorframe. The instant the man sets eyes on Onii, his face contorts into a grotesque mask of restrained fury and he marches into the cell.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" He halts before Oniisan. "Can your miniscule mutant brain even comprehend the concept of six o' clock on the dot, freak?"

"I-I'm sorry, sir," Onii says in a rush, his gaze averted towards the man's leather shoes. His fingers fidget between themselves in a continuous pattern in front of his chest. "I was... Master's prisoner had a fever, and I was just making sure he—"

The slap shoots his face to the side. Onii loses his footing. He catches himself against the stone wall, breathing heavily as he obliges himself to stay upright. Every nerve between his knee joint and upper and lower legs is on fire. He grits his teeth. He should've known better than to let his guard down.

"I didn't ask for any of your pathetic excuses! You better be at the lab in five minutes or else– or else I'll inform your _Master._ "

That is all the encouragement he needs to pick up his crutch and limp towards the door. He's halfway there when the unmistakable sound of a startled yelp and a violent punch greets his ears.

Onii's sucks in a breath. He whirls around.

"Hey, Spunkman." Raphael raises Baxter Stockman higher in the air by the collar of his shirt and slams him against the wall. "As I seem to recall, Shredder's _your_ Master too," he hisses in Baxter Stockman's face. The man kicks his legs, as they sway, idle in the air.

How can he even move so quick with that injury on his shoulder? Onii takes a reluctant step towards the pair. Then something terrible happens.

Stockman yells. His pleas for help engulf every curve of the dungeons. And now it's only a matter of time for _them_ to come.

Raphael growls and punches him right on the nose, effectively shutting him up. Stockman's glasses drop to the ground, the lenses break into fragments. His bleeding nostrils scrunch in both agony and disdain.

"I don't see you throwing insults and threats anymore, Speckman." Raphael shakes him and drops the feeble man at his feet. "I guess it's a cowards thing."

"You'll regret this," Stockman says between groans. He rises to his hands and knees with effort. Then his brutal eyes find Onii's. "Get to the lab, you!"

Onii backs away from the obvious threat and strains towards the door once more.

There's the sound of a kick and another groan. "Hey! You're talking to _me_ now, Dexter."

This time, Raphael's grabbing Baxter Stockman's throat, squeezing it like an orange. The scientist's face turns blue at the lack of oxygen in his lungs. His fingers claw at Raphael's death grip without avail.

Everything slows down then. Raphael's green eyes gleam with terrible rage. His mouth is woven into a snarl. He lifts his fist once again, preparing himself for one last strike. The hand curled around Stockman's neck increases its pressure.

He can hear the footsteps now.

"Raphael!" Onii finds his quivering voice. "Let him go! Let him go now!"

Whether Raphael would have complied, Onii would never know. In that moment, Xever bursts into the cell and pushes him aside. Out of the way. Onii plummets to his knees. The wooden piece on his cast snaps into two and he groans. But he has no time to dwell on his distress as more guards rush into the cell. He has to crawl away to avoid getting stomped on. Now, in the safety of a corner he can do nothing but stare, frightened, at the scene before him.

Xever kicks Raphael in the stomach. Out of wind, Raphael chokes in a short gasp and braces his abdomen. Their plastrons are strong, but Xever's legs are made of an almost indestructible alloy.

The men pick up a barely conscious Doctor Stockman by his limbs and haul him away. The tips of his formerly impeccable shoes scrape the floor as they tow him out the prison cell like a rag doll.

Once Stockman and the men are out of the way, once there are no more witnesses, Xever wastes no opportunity. He swings his leg back and strikes it against Raphael's chest. He cries out. In his already weakened health, the prisoner has no choice but to embrace himself as best as he can until Xever has had his bloodlust.

 _Thud. Thud. Thud. Gasp. Groan. Hold back._ It's like Onii is reliving their training with Xever all over again. Forced to stare helplessly as Ototo curls up on the floor. Fresh blood springs from green flesh. Older wounds reopen. New ones darken their skin.

"Stop! Please!" Onii staggers to his feet, sagging against the wall.

Xever continues his attack. Raphael's struggles lose their accuracy. His limbs get weaker until they fall completely limp on the floor. His eyes are dazing out. There's _so much_ _blood._

"Master said not to kill him! Stop!" Nothing is going to convince him. "Stop, _Xever_!"

And Xever stops.

Raphael falls limp at the mutant's metallic feet. His chest falls and rises in a hurried rhythm. Still breathing.

Onii's relief is trimmed short when Xever turns on his heels and advances on him now. "You're right, boy," he snarls and Onii feels himself shrinking against the wall, practically to a kneel, with each step Xever takes. "So, you better hope he's still alive by the time Master Shredder comes back."

Onii has no time to process what Xever is saying as the mutant bends down and grabs him by the arm. In swift movement, Xever pulls him to his feet and hauls him towards the doorway. Onii looks back at Raphael's unconscious form just in time for the door to slam shut.

 _No._ "Wait," he pleads, now desperate as he attempts to break loose from the mutant's grip. "I have to... He's going to die if we don't do something. He needs help." Xever ignores him, letting out a low, satisfied snigger. Onii jerks against his caretaker's grip. This time he almost manages to yank his arm away. "He needs _my_ help! Let me go!"

Xever puts him back in his place in less than a minute. He grabs his hand and bends his wrist unnaturally against its joint. The back of his fingers nearly touch his forearm with unimaginable force. Onii contains a gasp. He has to lower himself in effort of readjusting his hand and wrist connection, to somehow neutralize the effects of the simple yet painful lock.

"What is going on here?"

Xever releases the lock in a flash. Onii exhales in relief.

Tiger Claw towers over both; an impatient growl reaches his throat, his one good eye glaring down.

Under any other circumstances, he'd have kept his big mouth shut. That's not an option anymore. "Please, sir," he answers before Xever can stop him. His furious caretaker digs his thin, sharp nails into his flesh. Onii winces but he ignores the aching and points at the closed cell door. "He's hurt. You have to– you... you– I– I can help him. Let me help him. Please."

There's silence at first. Then Tiger Claw's detached, scrutinizing gaze becomes too much. Onii bows his head, casting his eyes from the mutant.

Tiger Claw walks past him without a word. The cell door groans open. There's a low curse behind Onii. "What did you do, Xever?" he asks tightly, not glancing away from the gory picture inside the prison.

"Nothing he didn't deserve." Xever strengthens his grasp on Oniisan.

A fierce roar echoes in the dungeons. "You fool!" Tiger Claw slams his paw against the wall and Onii's heart leaps in terror. "We needed him alive! Master wanted him alive!"

"It was the only way to get him to release Stockman—"

"—That's a lie!"

Both high-ranking mutants turn towards him, bewildered. Onii's lips are parted slightly in equal dismay and horror. He attempts to breathe in, but the air feels too dense, absent. Not even he can believe what he just did.

"What did you say?" Xever says between gritted fangs in both a warning and a promise. He shakes Onii's arm as he demands once more, "What the hell did you just say, you worthless slave?!"

Onii clenches his eyes shut, making every effort to block them out. Biting his lower lip, he contains any sound that might escape him.

"Give the cub to me, Xever," Tiger Claw orders without any emotion whatsoever.

"No." Xever yanks him away from Tiger Claw's reach.

"You can have your way with him after," Tiger Claw says. "Someone has to make sure the prisoner stays alive."

"Then you better find someone else to help you with that, and fast," Xever bites back then turns towards Oniisan. "This one needs some more _schooling_."

Without warning, Xever starts dragging him away once more. Onii looks behind. Hopeful. _Stupid._ His agony-filled eyes settling on Tiger Claw, pleading for him to intervene, but the mutant doesn't grant him a glimpse as he disappears into Raphael's cell. A pang, like a blow, penetrates his heart as he resigns himself to a well-earned fate.

Onii is focusing too much on trying to keep up with the mutant's brisk pace to discern where Xever's taking him.

After a flight of stairs, they arrive at the first floor and stop at the boiler room next to the kitchen. That's when matters become both apparent and alarming. Inside there is a tall, wooden, cupboard-sized box that Onii knows far too well. It is supported with metal at its corners and joints, has four holes on top of it, just big enough to allow air in. There's a single door on its front face with a hand-sized slot for food and water. Both only open from the outside.

 _No._ Onii can't help but weakly pull against Xever's grip. His efforts only make his captor more furious. Xever fastens his grasp on him and hauls him forward, whirling him around, so he's looking directly into Oniisan's round eyes.

"I'm getting tired of your defiance, you little freak. You seem to have forgotten who's in charge around here. You seem to have forgotten who I am and _what_ you are," Xever hisses and bends Onii's wrist against its joint again. Onii lets out a moan but this time he doesn't struggle to fight it. "So, let _me_ help you refresh your memory."

He draws out the familiar set of keys from his metal belt. Unlike Onii and Oto's, with solely one key for the dungeons cells, this ring holds a dozen of them and a small remote for digital locks.

Xever unlocks the door, exposing a prison hardly bigger than Oniisan, with only a forgotten empty waste bucket in a corner. He throws Onii inside.

Onii lands on his side. He pulls himself up just in time to see Xever smiling at him. "Welcome back to the Sweatbox, boy."

Then the door slams shut.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _Oh dear, will I ever give them a break? Nope. Not in this story! Ha-ha!_

 _The Stweatbox is actually a personal nightmare. I'm an animator and in animation terms The Sweatbox was the room in Walt Disney Studios in which all the supervisors, Walt himself, sat and looked and critiqued everyone's work. It was called the Sweatbox because this room did not have AC and it was super crammed all the time so it was very warm. Basically the room where people realized they had to repeat all of their months' work. Now, the term Sweatbox refers to the revision room. Even if they're comfy and with AC._

 _Of course this particular Sweatbox is slightly different. Hehe. I just wanted to share this random fact._

 _Also, guess who's not a disgusting fly mutant thing in this AU? You're welcome, Dexter._


	10. Empty Promise

**A/N:** Sorry doesn't even begin to describe this update. Better late than never? He-he... Not gonna make this long, more rambling at the bottom if you guys are interested. *Hides in a corner*

* * *

 **Empty Promise**

* * *

Fire.

Every joint, muscle and nerve is on fire. That's his first thought when consciousness reclaims him.

His side flares with a flash of hot pain with each short breath. What happened? There's movement out there, but Raph can't focus on it. Nothing makes sense, everything hurts. Maybe he has a fever again.

Despite the fuzziness, he forces himself to stand up and get over it. Then he remembers. The soldiers, Baxter Stockman, Xever... Pal.

 _Pal!_

"Stay down," a distant voice commands in a gruff tone.

Yeah, like that's gonna stop him.

Someone shoves his plastron down. The weight slams him onto his shell and the back of his head hits the ground.

Raphael hates whoever that is. It sure as heck isn't Pal. Pal would've apologized, or at least he'd have been more effing careful in treating a battered patient, all the while, probably listing all the things Raphael had done wrong and how they could have all prevented this if he'd just listened. _Dork_. Fuming, Raph growls and waits until the blurry bastard backs away before trying to sit up again.

"I said down, turtle!" He sounds farther away now.

 _Screw you, Foot._

The Foot roars. "Mutt!"

From the outside world, another presence rushes, their footsteps so light they might as well belong to Leo or Splinter. He looms over Raph. Then more hands, this time more careful, guide him slowly, steadily towards the ground. Before Raph can stop him, the new guy wraps his fingers around Raph's wrist and squeezes twice.

It doesn't hurt, and yet it doesn't feel right. Not down here. Not among Foot. Leo used to do that all the time when they were kids... when they were sick and injured.

 _You're ok,_ it means. _I'm here,_ it says.

Noticing Raph's calmer demeanor, the Foot lets go. His hands shuffle and fidget. They slice the air in a swish, then get lost in the rubbing sound of skin contact and the occasional clap.

A pause. More hand movement. _Signs._

Amidst his foggy thoughts, Raph's heart leaps in recognition. He turns his head to the side where Buddy's signing came from. Raphael blinks up, clearing his sight a bit.

Buddy is turned away from him. Invested in quick and urgent silent words. They're a blur. But this rant isn't for Raph.

"I don't care whether he is— that's enough questions! Keep him still. Now!"

"Buddy," Raph's voice scratches his throat like sandpaper.

A pair of blue eyes grow twice their size at the name. They dart back and forth. Terrified.

Raph frowns. Is Buddy scared for him? This is nothing. Just a fever. He'll shake it off in a minute. Less than a minute. But still, he can't help but slur the obvious question, "Wha' wrong?"

Then Foot guy creeps behind Buddy. He gets taller and taller with each step he takes towards—Buddies? There's four turtles now. They're— why are they spinning? No, wait. The whole room's spinning. _Well, shell._

"I said keep him still!" the Foot repeats, then lets out a dark chuckle as he lifts a glass bottle and waves it in the air. Taunting. "This will hurt."

For a fleeting moment of clarity Raphael processes the words. As if on cue, his shoulder prods every nerve in stinging anticipation.

Panic takes over. With all remaining strength, he pushes his limbs against the floor, trying in vain to stand.

Getting away is not an option. Buddy is not quite so gentle this time around. He holds Raph in place, giving time and room for the larger figure to tower over him. A set of fangs pierce a feral smile in an orange face. The Foot opens the bottle and the scent of alcohol invades his nostrils. Raphael has no energy to fight against the hold. So he closes his eyes and mentally prepares himself.

Then they set him on fire all over again.

* * *

He's drifting. Swimming. _Drowning._ He – there's _hands_ around him. They won't stay away. He can't – he has to push them away. His head swirls and drops sideways. His cheek meets a smooth surface. Glass? No. It's curved and cool. This is — nice. It's a welcomed contrast to his aching forehead. Raphael sighs, succumbing to the delightful chill the surface brings him and lets his cheek rest there.

 _Splash._

Where? What is this? He barely raises a hand above the surface. Liquid dribbles between his soaked fingers. Water. Warm. It's all around him, like he's inside an algae pool. His nostrils meet the rich scent of sweetness. Honey? He shakes his throbbing head. Then the rest of his body follows. He— he— _Groan_ —he can't sit up, why can't he— _Stop! Stop touching me!_

"S-stop."

It's not the barking order he aims for.

Someone hushes him. Gentle. Soothing. There's a wet cloth on his forehead. Then someone takes his hand and squeezes twice.

 _Everything's ok._

 _Squeeze._

 _Everything's ok,_ it says. _You're safe. I'm here._

His eyes focus a little and he sees green skin. He sees worried blue eyes.

 _Safe. Blue._

"L-Leo." He smiles and falls back to sleep.

* * *

He's fully lucid the third time he wakes up.

The pain isn't there. His shoulder's numb, at most, as if someone had left ice on it for a little too long. It's a relief. It's _strange._ He clenches his hand and a slight discomfort travels through his limb.

He can still feel his shoulder. He can still use it.

Raph turns over on his side and the gentle surface of a pillow meets his cheek.

 _Home._ He sighs, a small smile stretching on his face.

The dork did it. Leo got him home.

"Comfortable?"

His eyes snap open. Light. _Blinding_ light. It's too freaking bright. He turns his face away, shielding himself against the drastic change. The world lacks focus. Furious, he curses and rubs his eyes, blinking up. As his sight adjusts, a snarl creases his mouth.

"Tiger Claw," he growls, or at least means to. His throat ends up rasping the name instead.

Tiger Claw's massive paw lands on his chest. The brute force coerces him back down on a fabric surface. Raphael attempts to shove him away. Tiger Claw is nothing but persistent.

"Stop! You will stop this at once!" The large set of furry hands pushes him down by the shoulders.

The agony inflicted is enough argument to convince his pathetic struggles to die. Raph grits his teeth. His face contorts into a grimace of pain, and to injure his pride, dreadful anticipation. He's at the mercy of the Foot — _again._

Except, Tiger Claw doesn't slash his shoulder open. He firmly forces Raph's shell against the tangled fabrics that do little to stop the rough stone underneath from pinching his skin.

At least it's kind of an improvement over the floor of his other cell.

"You _will_ calm down, cub," he says, drawing away.

The instant the weight is gone, Raphael sits up. A wave of dizziness takes over, but he ignores it and scoots himself as far away from the mutant as he can. His heart races.

Tiger Claw's frame blocks most of his line of sight. From his peripheral vision and limited perspective Raph scans the place in search of a weapon. _Anything._

Some long brown stick. A broom or a mop, maybe. There's also a metal bucket. He can only tell it's metallic because of the reflecting light coming from— a lamp? Weird. This new cell has some stuff that can be useful for self-defense. Unfortunately, nothing he can snatch fast enough before Tiger Claw stops him.

Darn it. Things are not looking up. This sucker's a handful on a good day. He can't take on Tiger Claw as weak as he feels, especially unarmed. Sewer apples. He won't last a minute if—

"Breathe," Tiger Claw says raising empty, weaponless hands. "Right now, I am not your enemy."

Like shell he isn't. Raph glares but makes no sudden moves. He stands no chance of winning this fight. They both know it. So despite his loathing for this bastard, Raph remains quiet and waits. It's the smart thing to do.

" _You're going to get yourself killed,"_ Pal's voice says in his head. Raph can picture the nerd rolling his eyes condescendingly and—shell, Pal. He had completely forgotten. Is he okay? What had happened after Xever—? Had Xever hurt him? Crud, where was he? _No._

 _Calm down._

 _Later. Find out later. Help him later._ Raph breaks from the wild train of thought and focuses on the mutant before him. One problem at a time.

Something in his gut tells him Tiger Claw isn't bluffing. If they wanted him dead, he would be.

Tiger Claw furrows his brow, studying him with his one good eye before offering a metal cup. Water.

Raph scowls at it.

"Drink." The claws emerge from his paws emphasizing the threat.

Raph snatches the cup. He's not gonna give this guy satisfaction or any sort of incentive. If he wants out of here he'll need all the strength he can get.

Without taking his suspicious eyes from Tiger Claw, Raph takes a short sip. The effect is instant. The water tastes so wonderful, he can't help it. All of his defenses drop. He gulps greedily and empties the cup in a matter of seconds. Water. He didn't realize how thirsty he was until—

Tiger Claw clears his throat. He doesn't say a thing but he doesn't need to.

Heat rises to Raph's cheeks.

Whatever. He was thirsty. If Tiger Claw has something to say, then he'd better put his ridiculously giant sword where his mouth is.

And his throat isn't parched anymore. "Where am I?" he demands and suddenly sniffs the air. The first thing that catches his nostrils is the distant scent of salty food, the second is _himself._

It's not just odor. It's the way his entire body feels. He's _clean._ His arms are not sticky with sweat or dried blood. He feels a lot more comfortable, lighter. His shoulder, if still sore, is mostly healed now. It's wrapped up in some clean white bandages underneath a dark gray hoodie— _What the frack?!_

His panicked eyes flicker towards Tiger Claw. That's just _sick_. He backs off as much as he possibly can, to the point where his shell touches the wall. His mouth parted in a muted scream of horror. And for the first time Raphael doesn't give a rat's butt if a Foot judges him for it. "Did – did you _bathe_ me?"

"You were filthy," Tiger Claw replies like it's no big deal. Raphael's heart sinks to the floor in further humiliation. "But don't fret, cub. It was the slave who cleaned you up, not me. I'm just here to make sure you are well enough to speak to Master Shredder."

Tiger Claw stands and moves towards a faded gray plastic table in the middle of the room. He grabs one of the two fold-up metal chairs leaning against a wall and plops down on it.

Raph frowns at the amount of stuff crammed in this new, slightly larger prison cell. He shakes his head. He'll inspect his new surroundings later.

His gaze shifts back to the threat. Tiger Claw. Then a small movement catches his eye. That's when he spots him.

Behind Tiger Claw, Buddy stands a few feet away with his back resting against a wall, his gaze glued towards his toes. He must have sensed Raph's eyes on him, because in the fraction of a second he lifts his eyes barely, and sends a sheepish smile of acknowledgment. But that's not what makes Raph's stomach drop.

It's the light blue bathtub next to Buddy. What had Tiger Claw said? _It was the slave who cleaned you up..._ Wait. Did he mean _Buddy_? Raph's insides churn. Now he doesn't give a flip about the so called 'bathing incident' as his eyes land once again on Buddy. Meek, mute, frightened Buddy. And he suddenly sees him – he sees _them_ in a completely different light.

 _Tiger Claw._

Alarm bells ring in his mind. He'd been here with Buddy while Raph was unconscious. Alone. A protective instinct he can't explain takes over Raphael. He tenses.

"You okay, Buddy?" Raph finds his voice raw but strong. He studies the smaller turtle, searching for any visible injuries and finding none. Though who knows what lies underneath that baggy getup?

Buddy stiffens. He glances up nervously at Tiger Claw. The mutant shrugs, uninterested. Gingerly, Buddy fists his right hand and signs, 'Yes.'

Raph nods back before glaring at Tiger Claw. "Where's Pal?"

Tiger Claw considers him for a moment. "You mean the other one," he says leaning back on his chair and shrugging. "The Sweatbox. Xever's teaching _it_ a lesson."

"Don't call him that!" Raph bursts out immediately. "Don't call him an it!"

This time, the Foot actually barks a laugh. He snaps his fingers loud in the air and Buddy rushes to his side.

"Milk," he says without taking his eyes off of a now edgy Raphael. "Skimmed."

Buddy nods and hurries towards a corner where a small yellowish fridge sits next to an old kitchen set. From it, he produces a white carton.

On his way back to the table, Buddy grabs a metal cup from the counter and quietly places it inches away from Tiger Claw's reach. He quickly pours the milk and steps back, holding the half empty carton towards his chest. Afraid to let go.

Tiger Claw drinks in slow yet long gulps, as loud as he can. He's doing it on purpose. It's sickening. Once he's done, he slams the cup against the table and wipes his mouth with the back of his arm. Then he meets Raph's wide, unblinking eyes with a satisfied gleam.

"You ought to be more careful, cub." He warns, reaching out to rest his massive paw on top of Buddy's head and rub it affectionately. Like someone petting his dog. "One might think we've found your weak spot," he purrs.

All the while, Buddy doesn't move from his spot. Gaze nailed towards the ground, he waits patiently at Tiger Claw's side, as if nothing's amiss.

Raph's teeth grit. The familiar fury is there, pounding his plastron as it always has. But there's another feeling, foreign and heavy, that settles under the surface of his skin, overwhelming him and keeping him immobile. Paralyzed. This is _wrong._ They're – they're messed up. These people, the _Foot_ are sicker than he ever imagined. Raph clenches and unclenches his hands. Helpless. They – he can't do this, he can't just stand and watch, but he has to – they, they're – they can't do this. Not to – them. They didn't do anything. What – why? How?

It's too much. _Shell, it's too much._ Unable to keep his eyes on such a twisted picture, he looks away. Like the freaking, useless coward he is.

"You have twelve hours." The chair rattles as Tiger Claw rises. The moment he does, his massive height doubles next to how short Buddy seems right now.

Raph tries to keep his tone emotionless. "What are you talking about?"

"To decide whether you want to live, cub. It's just a matter of giving us that location." Tiger Claw explains as he rubs Buddy's head one last time. "The soldiers will come to get you tonight, once Master Shredder returns. Better be ready."

Location. Home. Splinter. Leo. Family. A rush of fire and defiance makes Raphael lift his chin at the mutant. "If you think for one second that I'm gonna—"

Tiger Claw turns away from Raph, ignoring him. His fingers brush his thick leather belt, almost reaching for his freezing gun.

Raphael's heart skips a beat but the bile inside his gut is boiling with hot rage. He's doing it again. He's baiting him with Buddy.

Dizziness be damned. He's ready to defend his friend if it comes to that. But Tiger Claw doesn't attack. Instead he shakes his head with an exhausted groan. He places a paw on top of Buddy's head again in a slight pat.

"Foolish cub," he murmurs. Then turns and leaves the room without another word.

Once the door closes and the lock clicks in place, trapping them inside, Buddy dashes towards Raph. His smile stretches at its fullest as he tackles Raphael into a crushing hug.

Raph groans; the pain in his shoulder may not be unbearable anymore, but it's by no means completely gone.

Immediately, Buddy pulls away. 'Sorry!' he signs sheepishly. 'You ok?'

Despite everything, Raph can't bring himself to be mad at Buddy. "Peachy." But Buddy is full on Pal mode and he's skimming his shoulder and – crud. There he pokes his wound again.

'Sorry! Sorry!' He signs a bunch of stuff Raph doesn't catch. But they're not hard to figure out once a huge guilty smile spreads on his face.

Raph can't help but laugh. Talk about overprotective. "Yeah, I'm glad to see you too, Buddy," he says. It's kind of weird how just one look at Buddy's dumb grin can make his mood do a one-eighty. "Hey, what the heck was _that_ about?" He thumb-points at the door.

Buddy only shrugs him off. Raph frowns but doesn't press the matter. It's not like he'll figure it out anyways. He can barely understand Buddy as it is.

Besides, they have more important stuff to worry about now that Tiger Claw's gone. Buddy may not know it, but they're getting out of here.

Wherever _here_ is.

This prison has no windows. What it does have is electricity — and stuff. The only light comes from an old nightstand lamp sitting on top of a small plastic storage crate, turned upside-down. The bulb colors every bit of the cell in warm, yellow tones.

Raph's not lying on a bed… this is more like a bunch of sheets folded on one another in a messy nest. There's a small cupboard across from him with a sink installed on top. Then more stuff on top of that; a bar of soap, a toothbrush, tooth paste. To complete the bathroom ensemble, there's the light blue bathtub and a similarly colored toilet with no lid on the tank.

Something's floating on the tank's water. It takes Raph a closer look to identify the boats made of foil.

He stands with a lot less effort than what it took to straighten up.

He's barely aware that he's gripping the hoodie's cuffs a little too harshly as he approaches the slightly bigger cupboard with some worn books neatly stacked in it. _Webster's Dictionary, Animal Kingdom Encyclopedia, Fairy Tales, Advanced Chemistry, ASL._ And on top of them – toys. Toys made of metal cans, used plastic water bottles and stuffed little sacks that may have contained rice at some point. All of them lean against the concrete wall, which is far from empty. Pieces of paper and cardboard are tacked all over the place. Some contain city pictures from the _New York Times_. Others have random scribbles on them, numbers, kanji, even formulas; the others are drawings, doodled in blue, black and red ink.

His hand unknowingly traces the surface of the plastic table at the center of the prison, eyes falling back momentarily towards the full kitchen set. The old, used portable oven, the yellowish fridge, the two fold-up metal chairs. The _milk._

The realization hits him too late when he senses Buddy behind him. He's jumping up and down, barely containing his excitement. He's signing again. He brings his fingers and thumb up, touching the side of his mouth, then they move an inch up and mark a higher spot on his cheek. He does it twice for emphasis.

Raph doesn't need a sign to know exactly what that means.

"Home," he says in a soft voice. "You – you guys live here."

Buddy nods fervently. He extends his arms at the place in general with a smug little grin plastered on his face. Raph can almost hear the 'Isn't it great?' hanging in the air. Except his friend doesn't make a sound.

Buddy crosses the room and takes one of the papers off the wall. He practically runs back to Raph and offers it with a huge smile.

Raph takes it and it's like a punch to the gut. It's like he's four again. He lies on a bed with markers scattered around the sheets. Leo's sleeping form doesn't stir as Raph suppresses a shiver and places the doodled card next to his brother's pillow. Never in his life had he ever expected to be back on the sick, helpless side of the bed again.

Buddy poking the paper brings him back to the present.

The wobbly letters, scribbled in red ink and pencil on top of the card, read a single phrase: 'Be Happy Raph!' Underneath it, Raph recognizes doodles of himself, Buddy and Pal. Pal holds a blue inked rectangle that must be the first aid kit he's always carrying around. Buddy has a soup bowl in his hands—the one Raph keeps spilling on the ground. His own doodled self is in the middle and covered in bandages. All of them are smiling.

"What am I doing here, Buddy?" Raph asks after a thick silence.

Buddy points at the bedding. Then clasps his hands together and rests his right cheek on them, a sleeping sign. He stops and does an arm muscle flex. It's kind of funny since the kid is skin and bones. Raph can tell even with that gigantic hoodie.

"You want me to rest so I can get better." Raph nods. "How did I get here?"

Buddy lifts an open hand and places his thumb against his forehead.

"Tiger Claw." If he'd have to take a wild guess that must be the jerk's sign. "How did he know—" Now he notices Buddy fidgeting uncomfortably in his feet. "You." It sounds awfully like an accusation. "You asked _him_ for help?"

Buddy shakes his head immediately. His round eyes get larger as he signs something that looks like an excuse. The sudden change of attitude leaves Raph a little startled. It's like Buddy's expecting a storm. Pain. He's backed away a little and even closes up in case Raph explodes on him.

The guilt swarms Raph because it's not like Buddy is making any of this up. Pal had done the exact same thing, and now that he thinks about it, Raph hasn't exactly been the nicest guy around them.

Raph takes a couple of breaths to soften his voice. "It's fine, Buddy." _I'm not gonna hurt you anymore._ "I'm not mad," he says. And it's true. No matter how much he hates having to owe the Foot, without Tiger Claw, Raph would have probably died. There's no way Buddy could have put him back together on his own.

Buddy's head snaps up, smiling.

"How long have I been out?" His shoulder feels a lot better than before and his cuts are not as bad as when he first got them.

Buddy lifts two fingers.

"Two days? Huh, that's not so bad." His shoulder feels incredibly nice for such a short time—

Buddy's two fingers tap his thumb in a snapping motion. He mouths the new sign, 'No.' Then he lifts all of his fingers and even his foot. It raises a single unbent toe.

Raph frowns. Seven. Huh, the perks of having only six fingers—

Seven. Two fingers.

"Two weeks? What the heck?!" Seriously, what. The actual. Frack? How could two weeks have passed without him noticing? He just spent fourteen days in bed without doing a thing to help his case. Two weeks of wasted time and energy and— he growls—they're just gone! Finito. Forgotten from his life thanks to Shredder.

 _Bastard._ Raphael wants to scream. This is exasperating. He's not even hungry.

Raph's eyes dart towards the kitchen area, where a pot rests on the heating stove. There's a couple of dirty bowls on the counter. Buddy must have fed him at some point, Raph had just been too out of it to remember.

He cringes at the thought. If food had been going into him for the past two weeks... He shoots his reddened face to the side, far, far away from the bathroom area. No wonder they'd bathed him. _Ah. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. It's not so bad. All things considered, you could have just been left to die two weeks ago and_ —

He turns back to Buddy. "Your brother's been gone for two weeks?!"

Buddy's gaze snaps up at the sudden outburst. He takes a few moments to recover, then his shoulders drop. Somehow he manages to look even smaller at the mention of Pal. Eventually, he nods at the floor.

Raph can't help but think of Leo. Leo, who hasn't heard from Raph in weeks. Is he feeling as powerless as Buddy looks right now?

"Tiger Claw said it was some box or something. Do you know what that is?"

Buddy nods but doesn't elaborate. What good would that do? It's not like Buddy or Raph could get Pal out of there. Heck. Could _they_ even get out of here?

The ugly truth is, neither of them can do a thing but wait.

Wait until they bring Pal back.

Wait until Shredder comes.

Wait until— _if_ Leo shows up.

Leo. It always goes back to his brother. This is what Leonardo feels every single time Raphael's gone off solo. Every time he ditched their little dynamic duo. He wanted to do things his own way. He wanted to step out of his perfect big brother's shadow. And in the process he left Leo behind. He left him to do nothing but worry, _wait_.

Leo always looked out for him and got him out of trouble; and then covered for him with Master Splinter; because Raph is his baby brother and there's no way Leo's gonna let anyone else but _himself_ lecture Raph. He always just... waited. Waited until Raph's most recent temper tantrum was over. Waited for him to come back home if he couldn't track him down first.

 _Do you know what time it is?_

 _I'm serious Raph, this is dangerous!_

 _Raph, Casey! Stop that, we have to— watch out!_

 _Are you okay? Raph? Raphael! Are you okay? Can you stand?_

He brushed off his brother so easily. So many times. Without even considering how worried Leo was. How worried Buddy—and Raph—are.

Idiots! Pal and Buddy were just two complete and utter idiots! Why the heck did they risk their necks for Raph? They didn't even _know_ him!

Agg! There's nothing more that Raph wants to do but punch Xever with all his might. Xever, who tortures people who can't fight back. What else had he been doing to them before Raph even got here? No wonder Xever doesn't fight Leo or Raph as much as he used to. These past months they've barely seen him around the city.

 _It's because he's been here all this time. With_ them.

It is this thought that sends his first punch to the wall. It hurts like shell. And yet, it feels so satisfying. Raph drives his fist into the wall a second time.

Buddy jumps. Up until now he was giving Raph a worried stare but suddenly he launches forward and grabs his arm in a feeble attempt to hold him back. Raph shoves him away effortlessly. Buddy doesn't understand how much Raph needs this. He needs to bleed and scream and fight, not sleep on a pillow, not eat all of their probably scarce food. He can't just _wait._ He needs to do something. Fight something. And by the time he's done, his knuckles should be raw and dripping blood. They are getting there already.

Buddy is growing hysterical now. Signing, pleading for him to stop. Idiot!

Raph keeps going. _Punch._ It doesn't hurt enough. _Punch._ Not as much as it should. _Punch, punch._ He can't help Pal. _Groan._ He can't help Buddy. Shell, he can't even help himself. Shredder's coming tonight and he's just not sure who is going to put him back together tomorrow. If there is a tomorrow at all.

Desperate arms snatch him away from the wall. Suddenly, Raph finds himself engulfed in a gripping embrace. Raph wants to fight him, push Buddy away. He doesn't deserve this. All he's ever done to them ever since he got here is complicate their already miserable lives. But Buddy doesn't seem to care. He just hugs Raph tighter, if that's even possible. _Idiot._

"Idiot—I'm such an idiot." Raphael's body shakes with sorrow. "Shell, Buddy, I—" he says, his face burrows into Buddy's shoulder. "I'm—" _Sorry._

He can't say it. But luckily he doesn't have to. Buddy rubs circles around the back of his shell in silent understanding.

Raph pulls away to look directly into Buddy's eyes. "We're getting out of here."

The reaction is instant. With shaking hands, he starts doing Shredder's sign.

Raph doesn't let him finish the cursed word. He catches his wrists and holds them there. He hates that sign. And Buddy is not going to repeat it in front of him if Raph can help it.

"I don't care what it takes," Raph promises, not taking a no for an answer. "But you're darn wrong if you think I'm going stand by and let that bastard hurt you or your brother ever again."

Before Buddy can stop him, Raphael marches towards the entrance. It's predictably locked. Not that that's going to stop him.

He twists around, scanning the cell. There. On the counter. A knife. Not sharp enough for a weapon but it will do the trick.

Full of determination he rushes and reaches out, but Buddy is way faster. He dashes past Raph and snatches the thing with unexpected speed.

Momentarily speechless, Raph puts his thoughts together and steps forward. "Give me that."

Shaking his head, Buddy pockets the knife inside his hoodie.

It only takes Raph a couple of seconds to realize what's happening. His bleeding knuckles are proof of the uneasiness that settles in the room. Buddy's scared he'll hurt himself. "I'm not gonna do anything stupid. I just need that to pick the lock."

If Buddy was on edge before he's full on panic mode now. He backs away as far from the door and from Raph as he can.

"Buddy—"

'No!' He stomps his foot on the ground and points at the door.

He looks terrified. Raph hesitates. He doesn't want this to turn into another 'key' episode. "We can get your brother back," he tries to reason.

Buddy rubs an open palm on top of his chest. 'Please,' he mouths.

Raph doesn't understand. Pal didn't want to escape, Buddy doesn't want to help. What does he need to do to convince them? What can he do to prove to them that they need to trust him if they are ever getting out of here? He's a freaking ninja for crying out loud! He can handle the Foot—

Except he can't.

He got captured, chained and tortured. If it weren't for Pal and Buddy, Raph would be dead. The food, the medicine. No wonder they don't trust him. He was acting like a reckless idiot, putting everyone at risk. Raph looks back at the metal door.

There's a door closer on top of the door frame. Why would a cell need a door closer of all things? What's going on? Why did the Foot move him here? Why now?

He glances back at Buddy, who's a bit calmer yet still pleading for him to reconsider his decision.

 _He's right._ There's just a lot of stuff Raph still doesn't know about this place. But Buddy does.

Trust goes both ways.

Raph swallows, breathes in deeply. Then he raises both hands so Buddy can see them. "Fine," he says softly as he approaches a still fidgety Buddy. "If you think it's not a good idea. I won't try anything. I trust you."

Buddy blinks up at him in silent awe, as if he's never heard those words being directed at him before. Probably not from someone who isn't Pal.

So Raph makes the words sink in. "I trust you."

It's of no surprise when Buddy closes his eyes and shakes his head no. And even if Raph deserves it, it still hurts.

Buddy doesn't say it back.

* * *

Raphael can't sleep. No matter how badly Buddy insisted he stayed on their 'bed' and buried him under old blankets and hoodies. No matter his stomach was now full with soup and rice and a glass of warm milk. It's useless. Raph's just too restless.

It's like those nights before Christmas when he was a kid. He would lay down for hours staring at the ceiling of his and Leo's room. No matter how incredible the gifts were the next day, there is a special kind of agony to waiting.

Except instead of a present, this time, he gets an audience with Shredder. Here's the season to be jolly.

Raph pulls the covers over his head. He doesn't want to look at this place. For starters, it's a dungeon inside the Foot Clan's hidden, water enclosed base. But worst of all, this little room, dark and bedless and... homey – decorated with makeshift crafts and toys – is the standing proof of all of the hardships Buddy and Pal have endured all their lives.

And however twisted it might be, this place reminds him of the lair a little.

A flicker of light to his left passes through the thin blanket and catches the corner of Raph's eye. He rolls over on his side and sees Buddy wide awake, sitting on a chair instead of on the makeshift bed he prepared for himself in the other corner of the room. A click later and a flashlight brightens to life. Buddy places it on the table so the light points to the wall. Then his hands move. Are they signing?

Maybe this is Buddy's equivalent of talking to himself.

But his guessing proves wrong when a perfect shadow puppet of a rabbit appears on the wall. It's not like those lame 'peace' gesture fingers. This is a darn well made rabbit. It has a body and everything and – did he just made it hop?

Before Raph can fully gape at the shadow puppet, the rabbit is gone and a yak takes it's place. Just like the rabbit had been, this one is flawless and it also moves. Then the yak vanishes and a kite flies on the wall, almost reaching the ceiling before this one's gone too.

But before Buddy can complete what appeared to be an elephant in the making Raph stands up. "How are you doing that?"

Buddy jumps to his feet and twirls to face him. A look of panic crosses his features, as if he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He immediately relaxes upon seeing Raphael.

'Sorry,' he signs then points at the bed, before making a sleeping motion with his hands against the side of his head like before.

Raph shrugs. "Don't worry, you didn't wake me up. I couldn't sleep."

Buddy shakes his head then picks each finger on his left hand with a clamp gesture from his right fingers. Raph doesn't know this word but it sure looks like a negative gesture. Seems he's not alone in this anticipation game.

"You too, huh?" He walks over to the other chair and sits down. But unlike he'd expected, the table's surface is empty. "Dude, how were you doing that without paper?"

At this, Buddy grins and both of his wrists rotate closed fists before spreading invisible sprinkles in Raph's general direction.

Raph blinks. "Okay do you have a piece of paper? Because I can't keep guessing what you're signing."

Buddy snickers silently and stands up. 'Yes.'

He goes over to the cupboard and grabs an old notebook and pen. He scribbles something down before handing it to Raphael. The letters clearly need some practice but they're readable enough.

"Magic," Raphael reads out loud before glancing at the idiot in front of him. "Very funny."

'It's true!' Buddy writes smiling widely, then adds. 'Ask Oniisan!'

Oniisan. Older brother. Pal.

And that's when his face drops. But Raph will be darned if he has to deal with that guilt again. Nope. It's not happening. They're not going through that a second time in the same day. Not if Raph can help it.

* * *

"Okay, there's _no_ way you're not cheating," Raph says bewilderedly. This kid is whipping his shell. It's ridiculous. So far, Buddy has proven to be a Master of Shadow Puppets, performing every request with Leo-like perfection.

Meanwhile, Raphael is still working out how to make a dog bark.

Buddy sends him a kooky little grin and lifts up the sketchbook. 'It's all in the fingers,' his scribbles explain and true to word his fingers synchronize once more into another position in front of the flashlight.

"No way, how did you make a giraffe?!" The silhouette that appears on the wall is so accurate it's scary. What the heck? Raph has questions.

But it's getting late. And this game is coming to an end. So instead of focusing on the puppet in front of him, Raphael looks at this puzzling mutant. "How did you learn to write?" It doesn't make sense that Shredder would go through the trouble of educating the mutants he torments on a daily basis.

'Oniisan,' signs Buddy.

"How did he?" Raph asks looking around their place. To be fair, Shredder could do a lot worse. They have facilities. Terrible ones, but a bathroom is a bathroom.

Buddy shrugs as he writes. He doesn't know? Add one more thing to the ask-Pal-later list.

'He's always known,' comes the simple reply form the notebook. 'Onii is smart.'

That much is crystal clear. The guy makes his own antibiotics.

'Is Leo as smart as Onii?'

"He's a smart-ass, if that's what you're asking," Raphael scoffs, but a smile parts his lips at the thought of his brother.

There's a pat on the table and he looks up to find Buddy signing. 'Sorry.' He hands him a paper. 'You miss them? Leo and your Master Splinter?'

Raph presses his lips together. An uncomfortable warm itching invades his eyes and cheeks. But he shrugs it off. "Hey. What about this?" He blurts out and signs the easiest word that comes to mind. 'Sorry.' "Did your brother teach you how to do this too?"

But Buddy ignores the question. Instead, he writes something else on the notepad. This time the letters are not as shaky.

'I miss my family too. Don't worry. You'll see yours again.'

* * *

The door slams open, stirring Raphael out of his sleep. Buddy's gone. They must've taken him at some point.

The Foot soldiers creep inside the cell. They surround him. Some of them aren't human. From every other one, red eyes flicker automatically in warning; their inhuman voices chirp, waiting for a command from their living counterparts.

The humans glare behind their masks. They're probably wondering if force will be needed.

Raphael returns their loathing. Then his eyes shift towards the paper in his shaking hand. Buddy's handwriting. He places the get well card down carefully on the bedding then raises his hands so they can see them.

They escort him out of his friends' room, into a corridor just as dark and desolate. Up a flight of stairs, and then Raph stands in the middle of a dojo. It resembles the one back home so much that it's scary. The wooden floor is empty, the walls are adorned with weapons. The only thing missing to completely mirror the Hamatos' dojo is the tree.

"Welcome, turtle."

There he is. In his regal shinning armor and everything. Raph's muscles tense at the mere sight of this man.

"You seem like you've enjoyed your stay so far."

Raph knows exactly how he looks. His scowl deepens and he forces up a mask of utter indifference. "Just get on with it."

"So eager for pain?" Shredder tilts his head in good humor. "I assure you that can be arranged. Unless, of course, you have a location for me."

Raphael says nothing. _Don't let them see they get to you._

Shredder snorts, impatient at his silence. "You have no idea who you are protecting, do you creature?"

 _Just ignore him, Raph._

 _Let the words wash over you, my son. Like a river over stone._

"Of course you do not. If you did then you would have complied long ago. All the lives he's _destroyed._ The people he's _murdered._ " He pauses and the lack of patience is beginning to show in the man's stare. "But that doesn't matter. You are going to give me your Master today. I have no doubts about it."

Two guards step forward, past Raphael and towards Shredder. And in the middle of them, head lowered towards the ground and arms placed meekly in front of him, is Buddy. Shaking.

"It is such good fortune that I've had enough practice dealing with _your_ kind."

A chill travels up his spine and Raph's hands fist at his sides almost in a defensive stance. Tiger Claw's stinging threat surfaces in his mind a second too late. One look at his enemy is enough to confirm the fear creeping up inside his midsection.

Shredder _knows._

" _No."_ Raphael breathes in, sucking in as much air as he can. But it's useless. His lungs might as well be filled with ice. _No._ Buddy's not supposed to be here. This was supposed to be just Shredder and him. Rage urges his fists to move. Fear nails his feet to the ground.

He levels his chin in challenge. "No." He repeats more strongly this time. "If you harm him in any way, you'll never _ever_ get what you want. You hear me?"

Shredder tilts his head at him in curiosity, then nods once. The soldiers back away. In a perfect formation they form a circle around them. They pull out their bows and aim their arrows at Raphael.

Something metallic clanks at his feet. He looks down, realization and horror written in his face as he picks up his sai.

"You misunderstand me, turtle," Shredder tells Raphael.

In a swift movement, he shoves Buddy over to the center of the dojo. The smaller turtle lands on his hands and knees at Raph's feet. Raphael's stomach sinks, nauseous.

"I am not going to harm _it._ _You_ are _."_

He freezes on the spot. There's a heartbeat of silence as Shredder's words sink in.

"You're insane," Raph manages to bite after a while. He puts himself between Shredder and Buddy's fallen frame. It doesn't do much since they're both surrounded and Raph cannot cover all of his friend from every angle.

Shredder proves him right. All it takes is a silent order for the archers to switch their target. Now they're all pointing at the smaller turtle.

Buddy remains immobile, staring with brilliant eyes at the arrows aiming at him. No. Raphael growls. Then his gaze finally lands on the Shredder. Behind the metal mask Raphael can see it. He's smiling.

"You sick coward!" He launches full force at the man.

The gauntlet blade intercepts the sai. Raph has always known Shredder is fast, but this is different. Raphael's shoulder is still sore and he is not yet a ninjutsu Master. Shredder easily grabs his bad arm and twists it behind Raph's back in a tight lock.

Raphael grunts. He tries to pull away but it's no use. He can barely think. His free arm moves. Shredder catches it before it even comes near him. The sai are sent flying out of his grasp.

"Pathetic," Shredder's voice murmurs before kicking him from behind.

Raphael gasps and slams hard against the wooden floor. His arms start pulling him up until Shredder's boot slams against his shell. "And you're supposed to be the strongest in your clan," the man muses. "You're weak. Just like your abomination of a Master."

Raphael rolls to his side on the ground. His feet twist around Shredder's legs. But before he can kick the man out of balance, Shredder grabs his head and slams it against the ground.

"Listen to me, turtle," he says and slams Raph's face against the floor a second time for emphasis. "You can tell me where Splinter is and beat this worthless slave until I tell you to stop."

Raph growls, tries to get free from Saki's lock. His limbs are getting more tired by the minute. His fury turns into jagged gasps of exhaustion. Out of the corner of his eye, Buddy is still on the ground. His blue eyes don't leave Raph, conflicted and yet accepting of everything that's happening before them. He doesn't even dare to stand up in his Master's presence.

"Or you can keep your silence," Shredder tells him as he lets go of Raphael. He wastes no time in standing up and facing his enemy. Black spots dance in his line of vision. "You can keep your secrets and walk right out through that door and back to your disgusting family. You have my word, no one will follow. But if you do that, I'll have _it_ put down."

At this, Raph turns to Buddy. Soldiers are nearing his friend now. Aiming the tips of their arrows at the back of his neck. And Buddy just kneels there, like fighting is not even an option. He gives Raph one last frightened look and lowers his head. Acceptance.

"Decide, turtle." He hears Shredder's demand.

His limbs are shaking, either from fear or pure seething anger… maybe it's a little bit of both. He thinks of his family, his friends. Giving Splinter up means putting Leo, April and Casey in danger too. But then he thinks of – of them. These kids, his – his friends. Buddy smiling at the smallest things, offering food that is actually his and his brother's. Pal's snarky comments when Raph's ideas are just so terrible and delirious. His kind but precise words when he is tending to Raph's injuries.

Raphael's family... they're ninjas, they can and will fight back. From the moment he got captured, Raph had no doubt the Hamato Clan was actually prepared for it. They were most likely expecting it at this point. Not that they believed Raph would ever betray them, of course. But they were no fools. They all acknowledged Shredder's _persuasion_ capabilities.

Not that _that_ thought makes any of this easier. He swallows thickly and turns towards the kneeling turtle on the floor. Brave, easygoing Buddy; sarcastic but compassionate Pal, they – they are helpless and after everything they've risked for him – Raph shakes his head. He can't do that. He can't abandon _them._

"The lair's right underneath Broadway and 49th, the old abandoned subway station." He closes his eyes.

Silence falls on the dojo. It mocks Raph until Oroku Saki breaks it. "Perhaps there's hope for _it_ yet."

"What?" Raphael looks up, puzzled. A slap slams him right back onto the floor.

"Pick up your weapon," Shredder orders. One of the soldiers boots his sai towards Raph. The rest of them are still aiming at Buddy. Raphael obeys and stands up.

"Fight it."

Raphael looks around, searching for a solution, a way out. His lower lip trembles. "I – I can't." His voice is so small he hates himself for it. He ignores the sensation of déjà-vu in his head. Pal had said these exact same words when Raph tried to convince him to escape.

"One of us is going to fight it," Saki tells him and places a gentle hand on Raph's shoulder. "It is you who decides which one. Now _choose."_

Tears of anger and frustration blur his vision. There. Now he knows exactly what Pal meant about Shredder. He is just too powerful. They can't fight him. Shredder knows his weakness, he probably planned it to be this way all along. And now – now, in the eyes of the man, in the eyes of the Foot Clan, Raph can be manipulated as easily as Pal or Buddy.

He lets out a painful scream as he charges at the smaller turtle.

Buddy raises his arms in a feeble attempt to protect his face, but doesn't move from his kneeling position. The punch meets the turtle's left cheek. Sends him to the ground.

Raphael purposely avoids the sharp tips of his sai. He throws one in the air and grabs it from the metal side wings. Then slams the handle against Buddy's arms repeatedly.

How many times had he lost control during a training session with Master Splinter? How many times had Leo said just the right thing to drive him over the edge? He never thought he'd wish his rage would blind him. At least when he lost control, he got lost in the battle, it – it felt right and good. Even if it was wrong. But this – he punches again – this doesn't feel right. Punch. This is not blowing off some steam or letting out frustrations. This is _torture._

He gasps for air and rises to his feet. Enough. That's enough. His hands drop the sai, shaking. They clank against wood.

"I haven't ordered you to stop," Shredder says and the threat is clear as the soldiers aim their arrows at Buddy's trembling figure.

Raph turns. There's so much loathing in his voice as he snarls at the bastard. "If I don't, it won't make a difference."

There's a stretching noise as soldiers pull on the strings of their bows, almost ready to let the arrows fly. "Are you willing to find out?"

Raphael turns to Buddy. Barely conscious, the younger turtle peeks between his fingers. His eyes are shinning with tears of pain and – fear. Betrayal.

There's a lump in his throat. Raph swallows. Without taking his eyes away from Buddy, his fist travels towards his chest. He rubs it on top of his heart in a small circle.

"Don't hold back, turtle."

And he doesn't.

* * *

 **A/N:** First of all thank you to my newest beta CelandineGranger for helping me out with this chapter! Also thanks to Ravenshell and my mysterious beta. Yes, I have not one but three betas and they're all awesomesauce! If there's any mistakes, they're my fault because I am rebellious trash sometimes.

Onto the excuses— er reasons— why it took me three months to update. There's a bunch of them but none convincing or good enough really. I've been having a hard time managing real life with writing, which is why I really appreciate you guys' support so much. You guys are unbelievable and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for nominating my fic to the Universal Fanfic Competition. This lil darling is up there for Best AU, Best Raph and Best Don. :)

Also! Thank you to Fanbeing for the beautiful fanart that is now the cover of this fic! Check her tumblr and art, because it's important.

Okay... now I gotta run off to work! I hope you enjoyed this chapter?

See ya!


	11. Interlude: The Sweatbox

_**A/N:**_ _Hey guys, I just wanted to say thank you. This fic won Third Place for Most Intriguing AU, Most In- character Donatello and Second Place for Most In-character Raphael in the Universal TMNT Fanfic Competition!_

 _Really, I'm glad you're liking the story. :') If you want, you can head off to my DeviantART or Tumblr to see the kids react to this accomplishment in a short comic!_

 _Also, thanks to my friend who drew a lovely fanart of Buddy's get well card from last chapter, it's super adorable! She also drew a Donnie! If you guys are curious, check my tumblr! It's tagged under 'Nice things I don't deserve'._

 _Anyways chapter eleven. Yeah, I'm... kind of nervous about this one. Heh._

 _ **Warning:**_ _Things might get a bit... intense._

* * *

 **Interlude: The Sweatbox**

* * *

" _Hand."_

" _D-di-dinosaur."_

" _Rice."_

" _Oh... um... E-eleph-phant!" Gasp!_

" _Tickles!"_

 _Ototo squeals in both surprise and delight, falling on his shell when Onii attacks. Oto's carapace hits the wall, and the metal surface reverberates with a gong. But the sound goes unnoticed, overpowered by echoing laughter. Oto writhes underneath the tickling in a desperate attempt to push his sibling off, but to no avail. Then he counterattacks with his own fingers. Oniisan yelps and draws his hands back. He laughs so hard his belly hurts._

" _Okay, okay. Your turn," he says between short breaths, once he's calmed down._

 _Oto takes a while to think of a word. "S-soup!"_

" _Pants," Onii returns immediately with a smirk._

 _There's a childish moan of protest as Ototo stomps his foot against the metal floor._

" _N-no f-fair!" he squirms. "Y-you can't a-add the 'S'! Th-that one e-ends with a 'T'! It's T-tickles!" He whines, but by the tone of his voice, there's a smile on his face._

 _Onii sees it coming. He ducks the tickling hands and shakes his head in triumph. "Nuh-uh, sorry! Haven't lost yet! It's still your turn. Now, letter S."_

 _Before Oto can say the next word, a loud roar comes from the world outside and the storage container tilts sideways, then slams back into its original position. They both fall against the ground, sent away in opposite directions._

 _Onii grunts and from the distance, Ototo cries out. It takes Onii a couple of minutes to rise to his hands and knees. He squints his eyes, but it's useless. There's no light inside their temporary home. Stretching his arm in front of him, Onii crawls in the dark and gropes for his little brother._

 _When he finds the younger turtle, Onii pulls him up by the arms into a sitting position._

 _Ototo sniffs, shaking. "S-scared," he mutters in the ever-present stutter that Master despises so much._

 _Onii holds him tightly. He even smiles a little, hoping that even though he is unable_ _to see the gesture, Oto might feel its comfort. "Don't," he whispers with a knowing grin._

 _There's a tiny triumphant laugh. "T-tickles." But saying it is the only thing he does._

 _Thunder._

 _The waves push the boat sideways._

 _The container slides to the left. Then again, to the right. The screeching sound of two metallic surfaces rubbing_ _against one another makes Onii_ _grit his teeth. He_ _forces his eyes shut, trying to shake away the sudden dizziness that overcomes him. The men didn't secure the storage container properly inside the cargo hold._

 _Another whimper escapes his brother._

" _Ship," Onii_ _coos as an explanation. It's just the ship, moving the container from side to side due to the_ _waves of the sea. There's nothing to be afraid of. But the reassuring words don't leave_ _his mouth. He is pretty scared himself, not to mention nauseous._

" _Ship," he insists, not letting go of their wordplay, the only distraction inside this place. He pushes himself away from his little brother, just for a moment, hoping the younger turtle will understand. "Ship."_

" _P-pu-punishment?" Ototo asks timidly, partly continuing their game, but mostly seeking an explanation for their fearful confinement._

 _Onii shakes his head as a hopeful answer, trying to reassure Ototo, but he doesn't really know if he's correct._ _So he just shudders and rocks his brother back and forth. The boat tilts against the waves. This time, the metal container falls on its side. Onii's head slams against the walls._

 _He moans, clutching the growing bump. At the sound of his pain, Ototo gasps and reaches out. But Onii scoots away just in time. It's just a swelling. He's fine. No reason to trouble each other with something silly._

 _His head throbs. Tears prickle the edge of his eyes but he forces himself to sniff them down and whispers, "Tickles."_

 _There's a pause before Oto's trembling arms surround him, holding him, not wanting to ever let go. Another crash of thunder echoes against the angry sky. His scared voice whimpers, "...S-storm."_

 _There's no other word that makes it first to his head. "Master."_

 _He finally lets the tears fall, unable to pretend any longer. Terrible silence engulfs them. A peal of thunder echoes in the background. It is dark here. So dark and cold and scary._

 _He's shaking. He's in pain, he's hungry and he's tired. He wishes the humans had made them sleep for this trip. At least then they wouldn't have to endure this boat ride. Part of him contemplates the idea of drawing back inside his shell, for a little protection at least. But then_ _he'd slide out of control inside the container. And the smell of vomit is not something he wants to deal with. Not when they don't even know when the men will let them out._

If _they ever let them out. Maybe Master got bored of them..._

 _The container shakes again. He gulps down the bile. He prays that's not the case. A shudder leaves him,_ _then..._

" _R-ra-rainb-bow."_

 _He looks down, but is unable to see his ototo's_ _face. Oto lifts his head up and clears his throat. "R-rainbow."_

 _The corners of his mouth stretch upwards slightly. "Wish."_

" _H-happy."_

 _He embraces his little brother. The one person who makes him smile when everything is dark. "You."_

* * *

"Understanding," he whispers, squeezing himself tighter into the corner of the Sweatbox.

"Grateful."

"Love."

"Elephant."

"Tickles."

It's been a while since he played this game. Seven years since he played it with words instead of signs. And a couple of months since he played inside here. From the first time Xever came up with this punishment, Onii realized it helped him pass the time. It gives him comfort whenever he's taken away from his brother.

He invented it for Oto. A desperate, failed attempt to help Ototo speak properly. A way of stopping Master from hurting him. Though, in the end, his efforts didn't matter. Master got his wish, like he always does. He stopped hearing Ototo's stuttering. In fact, everyone stopped hearing Oto altogether.

Onii sighs. At least they still have the game. Sometimes, when they're not too tired from the day's work, they sign it before bed. What surprises Onii the most are the words. Even back then, as little kids, both of them knew what a rainbow and an elephant were, even if they had never seen them. The words were just there. Like the language.

He remembers being taught sign language, after Ototo stopped talking, but he has no memory of anyone teaching him to speak. Even when they got to Japan, both Oto and Onii discovered they _understood_ Japanese. Master was strangely pleased.

Onii coughs at the dryness of his current cage. At least he's not on the boat. He shudders. No. Not in there. The storage container is a horrible torture they have to endure whenever they're taken out of the country. Onii hates it. It's cold and it never stops moving.

This, however, is no improvement.

How long has it been? Considering hunger alone, probably a couple of days. Three, if he wants to push it. No more than four, that's for sure. Turtles don't do well without water for too long. Not that he'll get any.

Past experience has taught him: No water inside the Sweatbox— unless Tiger Claw opens the hand sized slot on the door to find him on the brink of death.

They should let him out soon though. He never spends more than four days in here.

Then again, Xever was in one of his moods.

Onii coughs again. He wipes his brow with the back of his arm. A chill runs down his spine. This makes absolutely no sense. It shouldn't feel this cold. He shouldn't be shivering. He must have caught a bug somewhere. Without food or water, his immune system won't be able to fight it properly. Okay. No problem. He'll just have to sleep it off. It's nothing he hasn't done before.

He closes his eyes, and uses the back of his arm as a pillow—

There's a cramp on his dislocated leg. It's a strange, uncomfortable sensation. Pain will happen if he moves it and yet, he needs to. He needs to feel his leg, even if it's in agony. Onii stretches it as much as he can, suppressing a groan when the limb protests. The cupboard-like room is just too small for him. He can only sit with his legs stretched but not lie down, except curled in a ball. And considering his limb's condition, that is not an option.

"Sleep."

This is okay, he can handle a few more hours.

"Peace."

The heat rises to his chest, making his heart pump even faster. His clammy skin dries and he draws into an even smaller, tighter position.

"Elephant."

He hopes Oto is okay...

* * *

" _One cup of rice equals two servings. In half a kilogram, there's six cups. Meaning there's twelve servings... not twenty-four. This is wrong, Ototo." Onii frowns at the piece paper and scribbles on top of it, correcting the numbers._

 _Oto lifts up his gaze, somewhat uninterested, and quickly signs his favorite new word. 'Sorry, Onii.' It's been a little bit more than six months since he stopped talking, but thanks to their signing they can still maintain a decent_ _conversation._

 _Onii shrugs, accepting the apology silently and goes back to his math. That is, until a groan comes from his grumpy little brother after five minutes._

 _'This booooring, Oniisan.' How Oto manages to drag the words with his hands is beyond Onii._ _Especially since Ototo's sign language vocabulary is limited, deeming almost all of his sentences incomplete. And yet the words he does know, he signs expertly. Or at least, more fluidly than Onii's more jerky movements._

 _It balances out though. It only took Onii a month to memorize the correct motions of all the signs from Otosan, but Oto's hands perform them perfectly, adding an emotional flair Onii has yet to achieve. They're both learning from each other and getting better at it every day. One day they won't need the signing dictionary Otosan kindly gave them on Oseibo._

 _Oto puts down the stuffed turtle toy he's made with their outgrown clothes and sits up on the concrete floor. 'Play! Play game! I want play Tickles!'_

 _'Tickles' is a good way to practice their new language. But Onii can't right now. They have more important things to worry about._

" _Oto, you understand what this means, right?" Onii drawls from the bamboo mat they use as a_ _bed and stands up, approaching the box sitting in the center of their bare room. He scans it, inspecting its contents, then focuses back on the paper in his hand. Numbers don't lie. A grimace shadows his features._

 _Oto's smile falters in the blink of an eye. Oto may not be good with math but he has always been able to tell what Onii feels._

 _'Not enough, yes?'_

 _Onii shakes his head. The question is_ _redundant._ _He glances down at the half empty box in front of him and scours its contents again, hoping he missed something. Hoping his calculations are wrong. They aren't. "That's right, Oto, it's not enough," he says at last and signs the words too, so Oto can learn them faster. "Not for three weeks and two people."_

 _'We not people.' Oto signs in an instant, defensively._

 _'No... never,' Onii agrees, because people are mean and cruel and they don't ever want to be like those heartless humans. They would rather be freaks. And proud. "We have to skip days again. Three days per week. And even then that's going to be a close call until the next time they give us more."_

 _Oto grabs his empty stomach. Nods. 'Maybe we share. Share meals. Last longer!' He offers with a hopeful smile._

 _Onii looks down at the paper in his hand and feels the heat rising to his cheeks. "We already are," he admits quietly. Six cups, twelve servings, twenty one days, two freaks._

 _Food has always been a subtler form of torment. Onii has never understood why. The men have so much of it. On his rare trips to the kitchens, he's seen the humans' stored rations and gaped._

 _He pushes away the bitterness this causes him. They'll be okay. They've been able to manage before. Skipping days wasn't pleasant, but it worked._

 _'I try get food from men on no food days...' Oto signs after a moment of tense silence._

 _'I don't know, Ototo,' Onii signs then his fingers pick a loose thread on his sleeve. The men could be especially nasty when they asked for more food. Yet, sometimes they didn't have another choice._

 _'Please?'_

 _Onii sighs because sometimes Oto is far too optimistic. He won't back down until Onii agrees and eventually he will have to. Maybe this will work. He wishes he had access to the kitchens like Oto, then maybe he would be of some help, but he doesn't. He's stuck in a dumb lab all day and only Oto can get them more rations now._

" _Be careful, okay? Don't bother them when they're loud. Promise me."_

 _Oto beams. 'Cross heart, hope_ _die!'_

 _Onii grins at this. He's about to suggest Tickles before bed when suddenly their door bursts open and Master himself steps into their little house._

 _They bolt up from the floor in an instant, standing straight, with their arms at their sides and their heads bowed respectfully to Master's feet, like it is their proper_ _place._

 _Onii's heart drums in his chest. Terror trembles in his limbs. Master never comes down here, unless they've done something wrong._

" _Master Shredder, this is obviously a mistake," Tiger Claw says behind Master. "A trick of sorts."_

 _Master furiously spins around to face the mutant. "I know what I saw, Tiger Claw. I'd know that cursed symbol anywhere!"_

" _Master, you can't seriously think Splint-"_

" _Silence!" Master thunders and grabs Oto's wrist. In return, Oto whimpers softly. He clamps his lips shut, the next second. But the damage is done._

" _Filthy, bastard child!" the human roars again as he drives Onii's brother into the wall. "You are never to make a sound in my presence!"_

 _He kicks Ototo_ _and after the third strike Onii can't take it any longer. He runs and places himself between the danger and his little brother._

" _Stop, please!" He drops to his knees and bows his head. "Please, Master..."_

 _Something shifts in the air. A pause. Master considers him. Onii resists the urge to grab Oto and hold him until the monster is gone. He's never going to stop hurting them just because he begs for it. This time, surprisingly, Master steps away._

" _That's right, mongrel. I am your Master. Am I not?"_

 _He nods to the floor._

" _Am I not?!"_

" _Yes, Master," says Onii and shivers._

" _Tiger Claw, make sure they're in the cargo ship, by tomorrow morning." Shredder orders and Tiger Claw bows his head in understanding. "We're going to visit an old friend."_

 _He is out of the room and Onii takes no time in turning towards his fallen brother._

" _Ototo, Ototo," he coos but Oto sits up._

 _'I okay, Onii, I okay,' he signs and Onii hugs him. He whispers gentle words into Oto's ears as the younger turtle sniffs softly into his shoulder. There's a shadow over them._

 _Onii is the first one to dare to face Tiger Claw as he crouches to their level. He inspects Oto's injuries with worried, yellow eyes. Thankfully, Master didn't go too far this time. Tiger Claw nods, silently agreeing with Oniisan. Oto is going to be sore for a few days, but he is going to be all right._

" _Please, sir. Where is he taking us?" Oniisan asks after a moment, fear dripping in his small voice. He remembers the cargo ship far too well. He and Ototo have been confined there a few times in the past, whenever Master wanted to ship them somewhere._

" _New York," replies the mutant. New York. They were in the States before. Onii knows this. However, his only fuzzy memories of the place are of their dark and scary home there._

 _'Why?' signs Oto. By the looks of it, he also doesn't want to leave Japan._

" _He wants you close by, cub." Tiger Claw stands up. "And that is all I can tell you. Now come, you must follow me."_

" _Otosan!" Onii calls and Tiger Claw faces them again. "Are - are we coming back here?"_

 _Tiger Claw considers their meager home for a moment, their precious belongings. The toys Oto made with plastic bags and milk cartons. Onii's cooler bag and his homemade medical supplies. Their box of rations. Then his old book of signs. "No, my cub. Take as much as you can carry."_

* * *

Onii sits up with a gasp. Dream. No. _Nightmare._

Leaving Japan six years ago was the beginning of his living nightmare. Not only were they thrown back in the storage container, but ever since they came to New York... ever since they came _here._.. things changed. The soldiers became more violent; they tormented them almost daily now. Master brought Baxter Stockman, and Onii was forced to work for the stranger, who didn't like him in the least. Xever and Bradford changed. Mutated into real monsters.

 _It fits them now,_ he adds bitterly, and takes a short sip from the water bottle Tiger Claw dropped into the box on the third day of his captivity.

 _No more than four days, yeah right._ He figured he should have learned by now. He screws the cap shut and slams the bottle against the ground.

"They're not the only ones who turned into monsters," he says after a while, eyes resting on the door. His grip on the old bottle gets a bit too strong. He lets go, afraid to pop it and spill his only source of clean water. No reason to be stupid. To dig his own grave.

Onii breathes unevenly. He doesn't want to think about this. About him. Not now. Not ever again. It happened months ago, so why did it still hurt?

It's not fair.

Every time he's here, it's the same. It's like this place is a trigger mechanism. Like everything he's tried so hard to forget comes back to haunt him. The memories won't leave him be. No matter how hard he tries, they'll always be there. Onii lets out a moan but quickly shoves a hand on his mouth. If Xever hears him, he'll be in for it.

But the tears won't stop coming. He closes his eyes as they fall. Why? Why does he have to relive these painful moments of his life? They're fake. A ruse. An elaborate joke that lasted for years and— those days are over. They don't _matter._ Those times are gone and will never, _ever_ come back.

It's not fair.

What has he ever done to deserve this? He's tried so hard to be good. To be obedient. Quiet. Normal. _Invisible._

Onii curls up into a small ball. That's funny. As if a freak like him, like them, would ever be invisible.

"Sorry."

"Youth."

"Home."

Ototo... "Elephant."

"Tickles."

* * *

 _The lighting is poor down here. And still, they don't care. They can see a lot better than the past three stormy days. Now the sun is out, it penetrates the grates and manholes. The little leader climbs on a pipe and addresses them all._

" _Okay, the game's like this," he explains, raising a finger smartly. "This is hide and seek. I count to ten and you guys have to hide. When I'm done, I'll look for you. But if I hear you, even the smallest sound, you're out."_

" _I don't wanna play this game," moans the littlest of the four, fidgeting on his feet._

" _What's the matter, is the baby scared to lose?" smirks his older brother with a taunting gleam in his green eyes._

" _I'm not a baby!" The youngest stomps his foot, indignant. "I'm almost five!"_

" _Yeah, well you don't look it!" his brother chants. "Baby Mikey! Afraid to lose!"_

" _Nuh-uh! I just…" Mikey replies, his freckled cheeks coloring suddenly. Then his voice turns into a whisper. "There's monsters in the tunnels."_

" _It's okay, Mikey." He's been quiet up until now, but the sight of his baby brother's upset eyes is enough to make him step in. He grabs Mikey's hand. "You can come with me."_

 _The brash one shrugs. "Fine by me, you guys are just gonna make it most easiest for me to beat Leo."_

" _Easier," he corrects and the older boy crosses his arms._

" _That's what I said, dummy!"_

" _Okay, okay," Leo steps between them. "You guys ready? I'm going to start counting."_

" _No, wait! I have to pee!" Mikey yelps and there's a groan to his right._

" _Well, move it, Mikey!"_

 _Mikey squirms. By the look on his face, he doesn't want to go alone._

 _With a helpless sigh and a roll of tired brown eyes, he steps forwards. "I'll go with you," he offers but the angry turtle stops them._

" _No, you guys always interr-urpt our games! We're in the sewers! The dummy can go wherever he wants!"_

" _Raphie!" Leo's voice rises, full of business. "That's mean! We'll just wait for you guys to come back, okay?"_

 _Mikey sticks out his tongue at Raph and drags his immediate older sibling away from their brothers._

 _Raphie returns the gesture, blowing a raspberry._

" _You dummies better move your shells!" they hear Raph's voice, echoing from the tunnel's end._

" _Okay!" he yells back and laughs a little bit as Mikey pulls his arm._

" _Hurry up, Donnie!" says Mikey and jumps up and down comically. "Can't hold it in any longer!"_

" _Yeah, I'm coming! I'm coming!" Donnie fights a fit of giggles because his little brother is so funny sometimes. "Hey! Watch where you're goin—"_

 _He doesn't get to finish. A boom echoes in the distance. The ground underneath them trembles and gravity shoves them to the ground. Donnie and Mikey fall on their plastrons. From the other end of the tunnel they hear their older brothers' voices. Panicked, Leo's calling their names._

" _Mikey!" Raph yells. The tunnel's foundations tremble, parts of the ceiling fall next to the youngest turtle. "Donnie!"_

" _Raph!" Mikey calls back. "Leo!"_

" _Stay there," Donnie adds in a warning at his older siblings, but his eyes are fixed on the unstable ceiling right above them._

" _No way!" Leo yells, grabbing Raphie by the wrist and stepping towards them. "We're coming for you, Ototo!"_

" _No, Leo!" Donnie orders but it's too late. The walls of the_ _tunnel crack and split, but it is not the ceiling directly above him and Mikey that crumbles like a house of cards. It falls, instead, far off in the distance, forever silencing the screams of their two older brothers._

" _ **No!"**_ _Mikey howls and attempts to dart towards the pile of fallen ceiling. Donnie manages to catch him just in time. He pulls his brother away from the raining bricks._

" _Get off! Get off! No!" Mikey cries, tears of anguish rolling down his dirty face as he struggles to get out of Donnie's vice grip. "O-oniisan..." he whimpers._

 _The shaking ground stops and Donnie lets go of his little brother. Mikey wastes no time bolting towards the mountain of broken cement, pipes and dust. He starts digging with his bare hands but he's too small to pick up anything significant enough to change the odds. Desperate, Mikey claws at the pile until his hands stumble across a boulder too big for his tiny fingers. "Donnie!" He turns around. "Donnie, help me!"_

 _He can't move. His limbs are stuck to the ground. A whimper leaves his throat because he looks at this huge mass of rock things that just fell on their brothers and he_ knows. _The chances of them being okay are not good. It's just not possible. But he can't give up. No matter what his mind tells him. No matter the facts. Leo and Raph must be okay. They had to be._

 _He snaps out of it and runs towards Mikey. Together they manage to lift heavier stuff, rocks and pieces of wall. But not all of it. Not enough to make a difference. They're just too big. Too many. Eventually their tired little arms fall and can lift no more._

 _Mikey is shaking. "S-s-sen-sensei, h-help," he sobs and looks around, as if their father would suddenly appear. "S-sensei!"_

 _Donnie cries too as he pulls Mikey into a hug. "M-Master Splinter!" He joins his brother's cries, calling their father. They need him. Sensei needs to come and rescue Leo and Raph. He needs to find them and make them right again. He inhales and then the loud cry leaves him. "Master Splinter!"_

" _Your rat is not coming, little freaks," a voice coos almost affectionately, but there's something really wrong in it. Something bad._

 _Both he and Mike turn around. An armored man stands at the other end of the tunnel, framed by the light coming from the surface grates. Donnie hugs Mikey close. Surface is forbidden. People are forbidden. They're not supposed to be seen._

 _The man approaches and in his shadow there's more of them. Dressed all in black and holding strange artifacts in their hands. The odd objects remind Donnie of the sharp things hanging on the walls of father's special room. Sensei had explicitly ordered his sons never to touch them. They are bad for children. They can hurt them. They're dangerous._

 _These men are dangerous._

 _Donnie pushes Mikey behind him and searches for a way out. Behind them, the mountain of pieces of collapsed ceiling; in front, the scary men. They can't get away. Mikey seems to reach the same conclusion._

" _Fa-father, father, papa, p-papa, h-help," Mikey whines. "M-master S-Sp-Splinter, papa, help."_

 _Mikey's cries echo in the tunnel. His words seem to have a tangible effect on the man. His dark eyes narrow at them._

" _Father?" the man hisses and there's a terrifying silence as they wait for him to continue. But when he does, he doesn't even look their way. "How dare he?"_

 _The question hangs in the air. Donnie is not sure whether it's directed at them. "How dare he defile_ her _memory like this?!" His thunderous voice drips revulsion and blades snap out of his metal gloves._

 _Mikey shrieks in his brother's arms. "Papa!"_

" _Silence,_ beast! _"_

 _Mikey obeys immediately, hiding his face on Donnie's shoulder._

" _His demise was not supposed to be that quick," continues the stranger, mostly to himself. There's a sense of disappointment and frustration as he regards them. Donnie catches sight of something in the man's hand. A contraption of sorts. The man squeezes the machine in the palm of his hand as if blaming it for something. It beeps. An explosion goes off, far away._

 _The ground shakes a little more._

 _Still holding his little brother, Donnie backs away. There is no doubt left in his head. This man caused the cave in. Their shells touch the pile of rocks and concrete behind them. There's nowhere to run._

 _Something changes in the man's dark stare. The human now seems lost in thought. His metal helmet reflects the light from the surface into Donnie's eyes and he scrunches them closed. "He did not deserve such a quick, merciful death. No."_

 _He towers over_ _the terrified turtles. "His infernal brood won't share the rat's good fortune."_

 _Faster than Donnie can blink, the man grabs Mikey by the shell and pulls him up. Mikey cries out. His legs kick the air in vain._

" _Let him go!" Donnie yells angrily and reaches out to take back his brother. "Let him go! My papa's gonna be angry! Master Splinter's gonna make you sorry! Let him_ _ **go**_ _!"_

" _The rat is dead, foolish beast!" The slap sends him to the ground. The metal man laughs. It echoes around every wall of the sewers. Still in the man's grasp, Mikey whimpers and disappears_ _into his shell._

 _The man shakes his baby brother mercilessly. "Get out of there, you bastard child! Or you'll see what true pain feels like when I crack your shell open!"_

 _It becomes too much. Slowly, Mikey obeys. His limbs and head come out of the safety of his shell. He is trembling. A soft whimper leaves him and suddenly liquid leaks out and splats against the ground, his weak bladder finally giving in._

" _You filthy_ **animal**!"

 _He throws Mikey against a decaying wall near Donnie. Mikey collapses to the ground._

" _Mikey!" Donnie calls and rushes towards his little brother, a wave of relief washing over him when he realizes Mikey is still awake. "Are you okay?"_

 _Mikey sniffs up at him; he's shivering in both fear and cold. He doesn't answer Donnie, yet his huge eyes shift behind his older brother and he shrieks. Almost on reflex, he attempts to retreat back into his shell, but this time he manages to stop himself._

 _Horrible laughter greets Donnie's ears. The man advances on them._

" _Learning quickly, I see," says the man as he towers over them. "And there is so much I have to teach you, abominations."_

 _Mikey blinks hard. "P-p-pa-papa, p-papa..." he is able to stutter, calling their father desperately for one last time before his weakened body finally gives in to unconsciousness, leaving Donnie completely alone with the humans._

 _He lifts himself from the wet ground, shaking. Fresh blood and tears drip from his nose and eyes but he does not dare to look away. Donnie places himself between the scary monster and his fainted little brother. He levels his chin and glares up._

 _The monster's back slap sends him back to the sewage in an instant._

" _Such fire... such_ defiance," _says the monster lowly. "Yes, I think you'll do just fine."_

 _And then the world turns black._

* * *

Onii – no. Not Oniisan. He shakes his head, blinking his eyes repeatedly into the pitch black that surrounds him. It's useless. He can't see anything but darkness.

What was that? What the hell was that? He's never had this memory before. He doesn't – no. There's never been a time when he hasn't been with Master. And Ototo – _Mikey._ A strange hybrid of a laugh and a sob leaves his throat. Oto's name is Mikey. Ototo has a name and – so does he.

"Donnie," he whispers, and it sounds almost wrong coming from his raw throat. Almost forbidden. "Donnie," he says again to get his tongue used to it, and this time it feels louder, but not better.

His entire body fights a quiver. He can't control it, can't force it to stop. He hadn't meant to remember that. Why did he have to remember that? He doesn't want a name. He doesn't want – a life outside Master's. He's so used to being a slave... the prospect of something else is just so impossibly wonderful that it is painful.

A life, he had a life before. Ototo – _Mikey –_ had one too. They'd had a real home, a family, a sensei, _father,_ brothers – _Brothers._

"Raphael," he whispers and – no! It's a lie. It has to be. This is a trick. A really cruel trick Master is playing on him. Just like Otosan did.

Yes. What other reason is there? Master brought Raphael here, of all places. He could have taken him anywhere else in the city, but because Raphael is a turtle— _like_ _them, like you, like Mikey, like Leo. No!—_ he's here, because Shredder wants to torment them.

 _It all makes sense now._

But it doesn't.

His lower lip trembles. Wasn't it enough already? Wasn't all the pain, the humiliation they were daily subjected to, enough? Why did he even keep them alive?

Sensei.

The answer is there. Master said he'd killed a rat. Splinter. He never specified it but Donnie knows. Splinter's a rat. He's—Father. Their _real_ father.

"No," he groans weakly and buries his face in his hands. It can't be true.

But the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Master's kept them alive all these years, at first simply out of vengeance, but once he found out Splinter was alive, Master took them to New York. He kept them close by, but not too close, in case someone found them. They were alive just so he could use them against Splinter at the right time.

That's why he hates them so much. That's why he's never treated them as people. Never even bothered to turn them into soldiers like his other mutants. It's not because they're monsters. It's because they're Splinter's.

And now it does make sense. Why Master ordered _them_ to keep the prisoner alive. Why he let _them_ get close. He's never done that before. But this prisoner was – is different. _Raph_ is different.

Raph is their brother.

There's a reason why the dungeons have been devoid of guards ever since Raphael arrived. Their working hours had been reduced. Master had wanted them to care about Raph. He had made Raph care about them, too, in return. And Donnie knows far too well – 'people' are the best weapons. Self preservation is not enough to have control. Not for them. But fear for each other... Donnie would have certainly given up a long time ago, were it not for someone to stay alive for. Mikey.

This could be a ruse. It could be all part of a bigger scheme. Baxter Stockman could have implanted these false memories inside his head.

What if they're not memories?

They could be some stupid illusion. A mind trick he's played on himself. Yes. He's just been talking to Raphael too much. Raphael, who had a loving family. A loving _father._ Something Onii always wished for himself and _Mikey—No._ This is a plausible, logical explanation. The only reason it felt real is because it was a lucid dream, caused by the effect of being exposed to extremely high temperatures for more than what is necessary or healthy. He's just been in here for too long.

How long has it been, again?

It will all make sense once he has some of the bread Tiger Claw shoved through the slot on the tenth day. Yes. Food sounds good. That wasn't a real memory. It was a figment of his imagination. A nightmare. A – a dream. A delusional, beautiful, impossible dream from a stupid, worthless slave that doesn't know better...

He lets out a desperate sob. He wants to believe it. He really, _really_ does. But... what if he's wrong? How could he tell this to Mikey – Ototo? Why would he raise up empty hopes only to have them crumbled the next minute like they always are? No. He would never do that to his ototo. Not until he's completely sure.

Besides, he's wrong. He has to be. "If he – if he really _was_ our brother," Donnie says with a frown, "he'd surely remember..."

Raph mistook him for Leo the first time they met. He has never mentioned two long lost brothers before and Raphael is _loud._ Donnie wouldn't have missed it.

Then again, there's a slight possibility that the cave in gave Raph and Leo memory loss... but if that is the case then...

Something is not right. Something doesn't _fit._ After all, it had been years. Even if there was memory loss, there ought to still be a knowledge of the departed. It didn't sound like Raphael _knew_ about their existence. It was only safe to assume Leo didn't either. The two of them seemed close. Leo wouldn't have kept this from Raphael. Right? But – but what about Splinter? Surely _he_ remembers them.

If the man – mutant rat – was his... his _father,_ then why wouldn't he tell his remaining two sons about Mikey and himself? Even if he gave them up for dead he surely would've told them. He would never keep something like that to himself, right?

Did he even care they were gone?

Something very hard drops inside Donnie's stomach. He feels sick. The room's spinning. Every option is so horribly twisted and malevolent, he doesn't even know which way to look. So he shuts his eyes, but the heat has dried all the water from them. He can't even cry. Even that has been denied him.

One thing is certain though. If this was indeed a memory, Splinter didn't want them remembered. Raphael's precious borderline-saint _Master_ forgot them. And what is worse, he made his own children, Donnie's _brothers,_ forget about _them._

Donnie grits his teeth. The brand new sensation that taints his heart fills him with ugly bitterness and resentment. "Splinter," he whispers in a broken voice and the word tastes like poison on his tongue.

"Real?"

"Liar?"

"Rat."

"Tickles."


	12. Enlightenment

_**A/N:** Hey guys! Remember when I wrote short chapters? Yeah... me neither. _

_Anyways, thank you so much for the reviews on the last one, guys! They really meant a lot. I've been going through a lot of stuff in real life and it's been hard, but especially, it's been exhausting. So your beautiful words helped me a lot. THANK YOU! *poses dramatically*_

 _No. Really, thank you all for reading!_

* * *

 **Enlightenment**

* * *

They don't escort Raphael downstairs. They don't need to. _Not anymore,_ he adds bitterly, as he descends into the damp, barely lit prison area.

"Mmh—" Buddy moans, stirring out of unconsciousness for a moment, then his frame, draped across Raph's shell, goes limp once more. His weight shifts to the side.

Raph readjusts his hold with a tug on his arms, regaining control of Buddy's falling, limp form. He contains a groan. He's in no condition to give anyone a piggy-back.

"It's okay," he says. "We're almost there. I gotcha, Bud. You're gonna be fine."

The guys' door, the only one with an electronic lock, beeps open as soon as Raph approaches. Some sort of motion detector, maybe.

Good. His hands aren't free to pick a lock right now. And asking the Foot at the top of the stairs for help is not exactly something on his Bucket List. He shoves the door open with his foot.

As soon as he steps in, the door slams shut behind him. An automatic beep clicks it locked.

Moisture-laden air greets him right in the face. The overwhelming scent of artificial citrus and soap makes him rumple his nostrils in irritation. A set of damp clothes hang on the rim of the wet bathtub.

Someone's been here.

From the nest-bed, Pal lifts his drowsy self into a slouched sitting position. "Anata wa hayaku koko ni imasu, Ototo," he mumbles, scrubbing at his closed eyes.

"Uh, not exactly," Raph says.

Pal is now wide awake.

He moves faster than someone with his appearance should.

True, the limp's gotten better, but Pal's definitely been to hell and back. The bruises that colored his face weeks ago are gone, but in their place, dark circles stand out under his eyes. His set of clothes, if cleaner and in better shape, drown him. He's skin and bones. Raph is surprised the guy hasn't fainted yet.

"Oto— Ototo, can you hear me?" His urgent hands search Buddy's limbs and frame for any damage, broken bones most likely. He takes Buddy out of Raph's grasp shaking him slightly. "Ototo!"

It's not the smartest thing to do, but Pal's not thinking straight. After two weeks of whatever the heck Xever did to him, he comes back to an empty house, then some guy barges in at who knows what time in the early morning, dragging his battered, unconscious brother? Raph would be punching first, asking questions never.

"What happened?" Pal demands.

Raph stays quiet for a moment. "Some asshole beat him up under Shredder's orders."

The glare Pal sends his way is worthy of Master Splinter. Raph can almost hear the 'I told you so'. But Pal proves him wrong. He says nothing as he turns on his heels and moves towards the bed.

Seeing the slight limp coming back, Raph takes a daring step forwards, reaching for Buddy. "Here, let me help—"

"—I got him."

Raph purses his lips shut. Yeah, he probably deserved that.

The minutes—hours?— that follow are some of the longest of Raph's life. He approaches the bed twice, offering help to fix Buddy's bruises. Pal brushes him off, insisting that he's used to working alone.

It hurts. But he totally had it coming.

Raph grows more impatient by the minute. He closes his eyes, trying to block the terrified look on Buddy's face from his memory. _Punch. Kick. Groan. Again_. Shredder won't let him stop. The arrows are aiming at his friend. If he doesn't stop, it won't make a difference...

A hand rests on his arm. Raphael twists and reels back raising his fists.

"Relax," Pal says. "I just want to take a look at your shoulder."

"I'm _fine._ " Raph turns away. "Help Buddy."

Pal's gaze darts momentarily towards his unconscious brother. "He's going to be okay." He sends Raph a reassuring smile. "He doesn't seem to have symptoms of internal bleeding or a concussion. His wounds are mostly superficial. Whoever did this to him, clearly tried his best not to hurt him."

And then the words get stuck in Raph's throat and the brave façade snaps like a twig, because it's really damn obvious that Pal _knows._

"I didn't mean to... to..." He looks away. It's the only thing he manages to utter. Pathetic. He grits his teeth and sounds a bit angrier than he feels. " _Look_. I tried to stop. But the soldiers were all aiming arrows at him and—and he said that if I didn't—"

"Raph," Pal rests a hand on his shoulder. There's only understanding in those brown eyes. And then it occurs to Raph that this is the first time Pal's called him that. The name only his brother and best friends call him by. "He's fine. He's going to be all right." He guides Raph towards a nearby chair.

Raph sits down, staring into space. He just lets Pal work on his shoulder, tries not to think.

"It's actually healing," Pal tells an uninterested Raphael after a while. "Considering the amount of stress it's been under, this is good news. I think just a few more days and we'll remove the stitches. Now, you shouldn't be exerting yourself—"

"I gave him up," he says numbly. "I gave up Splinter's location."

Pal almost drops the piece of cloth in his hand. He stays frozen for a few moments then says the stupidest thing there is: "You're still alive."

"Well, sorry for breathing."

Pal's lips form a thin line. "I meant, why didn't he kill you?"

It's a reasonable question. After all, Shredder is a freaking murderer. Raph is just too tired to give a darn.

"Oh, I don't know," he says in a sweet, amiable tone. "Maybe because Shredder's nuts and wants to torture me!"

If looks could kill, Raphael would be dead. Apparently, there's an unwritten rule that says this dork's the only one allowed to be sassy. Well, screw him. Raph just betrayed his entire family, dishonored the Hamato clan _and_ tortured Buddy in less than an hour. He can do whatever amount of screaming and sarcastic comebacks he wants.

"Your Master Splinter—" The way Pal says the word Splinter is strangely cold. "Is he powerful?"

"Dude, you have no idea," Raph says, and the thought of his father brings a helpless smile to his face. Sensei would have helped Buddy with his Spirit Mantra hand thing and have him up and running in no time.

"Then that's the reason." Pal moves away from Raph and towards the sink. The water starts running. "Master doesn't just take down his enemies, Raphael. He breaks them. Splinter is your Otosan. Meaning, you're still alive because Master will use you against him."

Of freaking course. "He's gonna kill me in front of Splinter."

"Yes," Pal says and when he turns around, there's no amount of sympathy in his face. In fact it's so cold and detached, Raph is actually kind of hurt. Then again, Pal has every darn right to feel that way. It's not like he wanted Raph here in the first place. Good riddance. Raphael hasn't done anything but screw them over and throw soup at the walls ever since he got here. No wonder he doesn't give a sh—

"That's why we're getting out of here."

Raph's head snaps up. Did—did he just say that? "That sounds just wrong coming from you," he blurts out.

Pal ignores him as he sits on the chair next to him. The towel he's been using to dry his hands is a twisted mess of tension. After a long breath, he meets Raph's stare. "Listen, Mi—my ototo and I—we can't fight. But we're smart and we're quiet and we _know_ this place. But that's not going to be enough. We're outnumbered so we have to plan this through."

He's shaking.

Raph's silence only seems to make it worse.

His mind seems elsewhere. "You were right," Pal admits finally. "This... this isn't living." His voice is unsteady as he struggles through the next words. "I didn't want to see it before, but after what he's done to Oto, to you, to me? I don't know how much longer we're going to be— entertaining."

The turtle before him is no longer Pal. This change... the way he speaks. He's heard this before. Pal sounds almost as determined as Leonardo. He's scared, Raph can tell. Terrified. If something goes wrong, they're all dead or worse. Raph swallows. Instinctively his eyes fall on Buddy.

 _There's worse things than death down here_ , Shredder's voice echoes, freezing his very core.

"What happened to you?" Raphael asks in a barely audible voice.

Pal's mouth twists into a stretched grin. Raph is not so sure he likes the expression. "Enlightenment."

* * *

When Buddy finally comes to, Pal pulls him into a gentle hug. Raph straddles a chair on the other side of the room, as far away as mutantly possible. He's not worthy of even looking at Buddy.

Too bad Buddy doesn't agree. From the bed, he lets out a dramatic little whine, demanding attention.

Raph can't believe it. Buddy is smiling and signing at him, like nothing's happened.

"He says he's glad you're okay," Pal interprets softly with a smile of his own. He turns back to read Buddy's signs again. But the moment he does, he goes completely pale.

What happens next is completely wordless but by no means _quiet._

Pal's hands sign, furiously jabbing and slicing the air with kata-like speed. Raph would be impressed if Buddy managed to catch any of that. Which, apparently, he does. Buddy's 'words' are just as frantic. Pal's expression turns ugly. But Buddy is not backing off. They're both signing so fast it's almost impossible to tell where one gesture ends and the following begins.

All except for one. "Tiger Claw."

Buddy's hands halt in mid air as he turns towards Raph. The realization of his slip-up comes a little too late.

Raph towers over the pair, arms tense at each side. "What about him?"

Pal is smoother in his disguise. His eyes full of hesitation as he quickly intervenes after a fit of nervous chuckles. "I think you're confused."

"And I think you're full of crap!" Raph snaps and presses his thumb against the center of his forehead. "This means Tiger Claw, doesn't it?"

And then he could hear a pin drop, but he's having none of this. He's not putting up with any of this crud anymore.

"Okay, someone, _anyone—"_ Raph says in a tight tone as he settles across from them. _"—_ explain what the heck is going on or so help me—"

He never gets to finish.

Buddy knocks him backwards, crushing Raph into a hug, shoulders shaking and everything.

What the heck!? This is so random! Even for Buddy.

Thankfully, Pal takes control over the situation. He gently pulls Buddy away from Raph, squishing Buddy's forearm before signing more nonsense.

"All right, whatever the heck you guys are talking about I want in," he demands.

Buddy gives him an uncertain look before his eyes dart towards Pal.

"Raphael," he says slowly. "It's—it's not important—"

"Like shell it isn't!" he snaps then turns towards Buddy. "What did you do?"

The question goes unanswered. Something doesn't fit here. "You did something, didn't you? How did I end up here?" At Buddy's silence, he tries controlling his temper. He really does. A groan later he finds himself reaching out with a forced smile. "Buddy, you can tell me, just—" He's losing his patience. Raphael feels like his blood is boiling inside his veins. "You better tell me right now or I'm gonna—!"

"It wasn't his fault," Pal says quickly. "He didn't mean for any of this to happen. Right, Oto?"

"What are you talking about?" Raph asks, his suspicious eyes fixing on Buddy. "What is he talking about?!"

'Your family,' signs Buddy. 'I'm sorry.'

His family? What do they have to do with it? Why would Buddy be apologizing if—

"The soldiers couldn't risk you getting hurt again. You _had_ to talk to Shredder. You had to stay put until he came back... those were the orders. You have to understand, Oto didn't have a choice. He had to give Master what he wanted," says Pal before swallowing. "Splinter."

Raph's heart stops, eyes snapping towards Buddy in disbelief. "What? ...No," he reasons mostly to himself, shaking his head. "He didn't give Shredder anything. I did! I told him where to find Sensei—"

"—Raphael," Pal says, "Ototo _knew."_

"What?" Raph breathes out.

"He knew what was going to happen. He couldn't tell you... those were the orders," he repeats miserably, as if the excuse would make everything right.

"The orders?" Raph's eyes land on Buddy. Happy, easy-going Buddy, who drew him a get well soon card. The friend that brought him soup and smiled at the smallest of things. Shadow Puppet Champion and basically a mute and... and Raph actually _cared_ about him. He'd seemed so – different. Honest. Innocent. It... it couldn't be true.

But he made Raph stay. He convinced him not to escape when the opportunity was there on a silver platter. A sickening feeling invades him. Buddy never wanted to help him. He didn't know better. He was stalling. And Raphael fell for it.

"No," he says helplessly, "Buddy would never do that. You wouldn't do that to me. Right, Buddy?"

But the silence only confirms it. Buddy lifts up glassy eyes. His fist rests on his heart and he rubs a circle around it.

"No!" And to add insult to injury, Raph's own eyes sting with overwhelming, unwanted emotions. "What—what is _wrong_ with you?! How can you put your life on the line like that?! How can you make me... you made me care about you! I— I _trusted_ you and you just—"

"—Raph..."

"No!" He thunders and points a shaking finger at Buddy. "You tricked me! From the start you tricked me into believing that stupid crap you do with your hands and—was that even real? Was I supposed to feel _sorry_ for you?" Raph spits the last word like something vile.

He's lost control of his temper again, but the stab of betrayal is too much. And he can't stop now. "You sold me out! You—you _knew._ You let me walk right into the Foot's trap and you didn't stop me. You knew what was going to happen and you didn't do _anything!_ And—and you tricked me into—into hurting, _torturing_ someone, someone I thought was _helpless!_ Do you even realize what _that_ feels like? And—and I betrayed my father, I betrayed my friends, my clan, I betrayed my whole _family!_ You—You're sick! You're just like them—you're pure _evil."_

"Hey! _"_ Pal snaps, defensive, even if it's clear Raph's not even _looking_ at him.

Buddy's eyes fill with more tears, and he starts signing again.

"I don't want to hear it!" Raph howls. "Shut up!"

"Enough!"

Raph's head snaps up towards Pal.

"No, you _are_ going to hear it, whether you want to or not," Pal says, pointing a finger at his face. "I'm just as angry as you are, but we need to _talk._ So stop acting like an arrogant _brat_ for one minute and _listen_ to what he has to say _."_ Then his glare lands on his little brother. Clearly the threat also goes for him. "I'm sure he has a _darn_ good explanation for this."

Raph says nothing. He can't. This is too much and he's trapped. There's no where to go, no one to blow off some steam with, because he doesn't want to hurt _them._ He hadn't realized it until now. As much as it pains him to admit it, these two have dug their way into his heart and he doesn't even know how or when that even happened or why he cares so much. It's like a second nature to him, like instinct.

"I was not supposed to go there again," Pal says looking directly at his brother as he interprets his signs. "To your cell. But I did—I wanted to check on you. You were sick. Oniisan had been taking care of you last time I checked. I didn't know what Xever had done that morning so I went in and—Oh no." Pal drifts off his reading and is now speaking on his own accord. "Tiger Claw was in the cell."

Buddy nods.

Pal sucks in a gasp. "Oto, I'm so sorry. I told him what Xever had done to Raphael—I had no idea you would go in there or that he would make you help them—I told you something like this would happen, Oto! I _told_ you not to go back there!"

"You told Tiger Claw?" Raph can't help but hiss at this new information.

"...Xever left you to die," Pal admits to the floor.

Despite the indignation and rage, Raph forces himself to be quiet. Pal's right. Raph can't keep doing this. He needs to listen.

"He was so mad," Buddy explains through Pal's voice. "You were dying. And I didn't know what to do, how to help you. I couldn't help you. But he could. So I asked him. I _begged_ him—"

"How did you even _talk_ to him?" Raph snaps, vicious.

There's a short uncomfortable pause before Pal responds in his own low, restrained voice. "He taught us to sign."

This shuts Raph up. A hundred questions rise in his mind but he flings them aside for a later time. Pal continues reading his brother's excuses out loud. "He knew. Tiger Claw knew I had been in your cell before... but he promised to help. He said he'd help you if I helped them."

A pause. "Help _them._ " Foot. Help the _Foot. Shredder._

"I couldn't do it," Pal continues quickly, matching his brother's equally urgent signs. "I couldn't make you betray your family. I knew what would happen if I didn't have the location but..."

As the words trail off, Raph's frown softens. A question he hadn't noticed before pops in his mind. Why would Shredder wait to demand a location out of him? He could have just as easily had Tiger Claw beat it out of Raph the instant he woke up—

Wait a second.

 _You have twelve hours,_ Tiger Claw said, never once looking at Raph.

 _To decide whether you want to_ live _. It's just a matter of giving us that location._ But Shredder never threatened Raph's life. No, not _his_ life. _I'll have it put down._

 _The soldiers will come and get you tonight._ Buddy was gone when Raph woke up.

Tiger Claw wasn't talking to Raph.

His mouth dries. A heavy knot settles inside his gut.

No one was supposed to know about the soup visits or that he'd talked to Raph. Buddy messed up. He got caught. And he got caught because of _Raph._ Buddy was supposed to have that location because he _disobeyed._

But Buddy failed. Refused to. He would rather face Shredder's wrath than betray Raphael, but, _why_? If Buddy knew what was going to happen, he knew Shredder was going to get the location either way. Why risk his own neck if it wouldn't make a differ—?

"Master said he'd let you go. He _promised."_

All color drains from his face. _'I miss my family too. Don't worry. You'll see yours again.'_

The images of the events with Shredder play before his eyes. The bastard did offer to let him walk out. _No one will follow._ No. Raphael shakes his head. The price had been too high. If he had accepted that maniac's proposition, then Buddy...

Buddy would have died.

His heart drops to the floor, now clearly understanding the terms of the deal. Pal is also paralyzed, gazing at his brother like he doesn't recognize him. Buddy hasn't signed anything, but Pal is too smart for his own good. The idea was probably in his head way before it was ever even considered in Raph's. Buddy avoids their worried eyes. His lap is clearly more interesting as he 'speaks'.

"I just never thought you would choose me." Pal's voice cracks as he reads the signs. "You weren't supposed to choose _me._ You were supposed to go back home. With your family. You were supposed to be _happy._ "

 _Be Happy..._

It wasn't a Get Well card, it was a _Farewell_ card. Buddy was saying good-bye. Because he thought... he thought he was going to _die._

When Buddy looks up, tears stream down his face. The furious, frustrated expression demands an answer. It's as if he's blaming Raph for saving his life. How can he be mad at that? What kind of self worth—he doesn't have any.

A strange, broken sound chokes and shatters every word inside Raphael. And before he knows what's happening, he launches forwards and snatches a startled Buddy, pulling him into a fierce, crushing hug.

Buddy's frame is stiff and frozen for the first couple of seconds. But then his arms wrap around Raphael's shell and his head falls and rests on Raph's shoulder, like it has always belonged there.

Raph doesn't remember the last time he hugged Leo, or anyone else for that matter. But he doesn't care. He's not letting go first.

"Of course I'd choose you, you _idiot,"_ he muffles into Buddy's shoulder. "Don't you _ever_ forget that," he threatens lightly, and then hears what he can only describe as the most wonderful sound in the world.

Between tears of relief and pain, Buddy is laughing.

* * *

"He hasn't laughed like that in seven years," says Pal bracing his good leg close to himself. His gaze moves away from his sleeping sibling for a second and lands on Raphael. "Thank you."

Raph doesn't know what to say, so he stays quiet. He's pretty sure Pal should not be thanking him. And even then, a 'you're welcome' doesn't seem to cut it. Especially not after what he did. After what he said.

"What happened to him?" Raph asks instead, and immediately regrets it. This is clearly a touchy subject.

"When we were younger, he used to stutter a lot," says Pal. "Master didn't like it."

Rage surges up in Raphael's shaking fists. "So he forbade him to talk?"

"Something like that," Pal answers shortly, his features darkening at some distant, unwanted memory. His narrowed eyes shut and he exhales a long breath, like he's far away from this conversation. For a moment, Raph thinks he's not going to continue.

Then Pal turns to look him dead in the eye. Gone is the anger, and in its place there's something else. Something defensive. _Vulnerable._ "Do you—remember anything before you were four?"

"What?" Raph frowns at the change of topic, but then actually thinks about the question. Some of his first memories include being sick when he was a kid. Leo too. But they had been no more than five at the time. He shudders. Splinter wouldn't let them out of his sight back then. He shrugs. The whole thing seems like a lifetime ago. "I... no, but who does anyway?"

The hope shinning in Pal's stare extinguishes with Raph's reply, leaving only raw disappointment.

"I do," he says to the ground, hugging his good leg closer, resting his chin on his arms. "It's funny," he laughs weakly, "how heatstroke can trigger hallucinations. Or even—even buried memories."

That is the opposite of funny. Raph grimaces. The Sweatbox must live up to its name.

"I don't know why or how it happened, though. I mean, why now?" says Pal frowning at some invisible idea. "I've been inside the Sweatbox more times than I can count. It makes no sense. So... so I've been thinking, and there's only one thing that's changed. _You."_

"Me? The heck did I do?" asks Raph immediately getting defensive.

Pal is almost hesitant. His voice starts with a composed security, but that changes as he goes. "I– I'm not sure, but my guess would be... maybe... maybe it's because you're here. _Everything_ changed when you came. Our work schedules, my... duties, the guards' shifts..."

A pause.

"Yesterday, I remembered who I was. I remembered who _he_ is..." There is the faintest of smiles on his face as he glances at Buddy before his eyes meet Raph's again. He's shaking all over. "...And I remembered who _you_ are."

Raph straightens up. "Who I—did we know each other?"

Slowly, Pal nods.

"I know you, Leo and Splinter. He's a rat isn't he? But he hasn't always been a mutant, he used to be normal, like we were. He was a human just as we once were common freshwater turtles. He bought us at a pet store but... but something happened and he— _we_ got mutated... that's how you got that scar on your shell. He dropped the bowl." He recites this, as if it's a story he knows by heart.

Raph's ears must be tricking him. He never told Pal that.

"I think—I think that's the reason why Mast—Sh-Shredder took us. Because he wanted to hurt Splinter. But what I don't understand is why you don't remember me or Mikey."

Mikey.

Raph turns to the sleeping form of Buddy. His name is Mikey. No. That—that doesn't sound right. Mikey is not a name, it's a nickname. Like Leo. Like Raph. He doesn't remember anyone named Mikey but it still rings a bell. He turns towards Pal.

He's watching Raph's every movement like a hawk, almost fearful. As if Raphael's reaction is everything he cares about. He straightens up and manages to continue in a more steady voice. "I think—I think we're brothers. I think my name is Donnie. But—but you don't remember me. Why don't you remember?" The question sounds so much like that of a lost child then. It's like years of bottled up anger, fear and despair are finally coming out. "Please, I need to know if this is real or—" He swallows, his eyes dart around the room at the verge of tears. "—or if this is just another one of _his_ sick, cruel games. Please, tell me. Prove me right or wrong, I don't care. Just stop it. Make it _stop."_

But Raphael can't. He's—he's frozen. For the first time in his life he doesn't know how to act—how to _feel_ —what to _say._ Two weeks ago he would have yelled and kicked and punched this guy for even implying that he was part of his family. He would have been certain this was a trick. But—but now? After everything he's seen, all the pain, humiliation, torture. No one would be that sick to put up an act like this just so they could trick Raphael. Especially not after he'd already given Splinter up.

But if Pal is right, if—if _Donnie_ is right—then, why can't Raph remember? Why can't Leo remember? Did he? Did Splinter?

But, if Donnie is wrong. What is the alternative? Donnie knew about Splinter being human, and them being turtles first. But that knowledge could have easily been gotten from Shredder or the Kraang. The Kraang. What if—for all he knew these two turtles could be Kraang experiments gone wrong. Clones. Of Leo and himself. Mikey certainly resembled Leo. They had almost the same eye color. But—but they bleed red, not black. No. The Kraang were gone. Gone since their failed worm-earthquake incident last year.

Raph closes his eyes. This is not his strong suit. He's not the smart one like April or the sentimental one. Definitely not the guy with all the answers. He's just the guy people need when they have to punch their way through. Why did _he_ have to get captured? Leo would've been so much better at this than him. He's the big brother, the protector, the reasonable one, not Raph. Raph's just the muscle. That's all he'll ever be. Right?

But his silence has lasted for too long. A foreign sob brings him back to reality and he looks up to find Donnie shaking his head miserably. He wipes his tears away with the back of his sleeve.

"I'm sorry," he breathes sending him a small wavering smile. "It was stupid of me to think that—that—I'm sorry, please just forget I said anything I—I don't know what I was thinking I—"

Raph doesn't let him finish. Just like he'd done with Mikey, he pulls the turtle into a deep embrace.

For a while the only sound he can hear is Donnie sniffing with his head pressed against Raph's plastron. He closes his eyes and lets him cry, holds him tighter. He needs this. He needs to let this out. This is not just for a kid that helped him when he was sick or hurt, tortured under Shredder's orders. This is not for the friend that snapped a sassy comment his way and tried to be the voice of reason. This is for a smart and kind boy, who has been living his whole life as a slave, believing he's a monster, taking care of his little brother, showing so much compassion and receiving nothing but pain in return.

"I don't know if I'm your brother," Raph says finally and Donnie lets out a painful sob. He pulls him away from his plastron just so Donnie can see his face as he speaks. He needs to hear and understand Raph's next words to a T. "But I don't care, you hear me, Donnie? I. Don't. Give. A. Crud. You're both still coming with me and we _are_ getting out of here. So no, I can't tell you if what you remembered is right. I have no way of proving it either. But it _doesn't_ matter. To me, you might as well be my brother."

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _Hugs you all... in a hoodie. :)_


	13. The Great Escape

_**A/N:** Guys, guys! Thank you so much for the 200 reviews! I'm just in awe! You've all been so amazing and supportive! To those still reading, thank you for your patience and for putting up with me!_

 _Especial thanks to my darling betas! They made this chapter better and encouraged me to keep posting! And to my lovely reviewers! You make my day._

* * *

 **The Great Escape**

* * *

They don't tell Mikey. Not the full story, anyways.

"I don't want to get his hopes up," Donnie said and Raph got it. There's no way to prove Donnie was right. And if he's wrong, then who knows what sort of damage that would do to Mike.

The brat's already a mess as it is.

Across the room, Raph straddles a metal chair once more. He rests his forearms on the back and rocks himself back and forth in a way Splinter would frown upon. But it doesn't matter as long as he's in the background. Quiet on the sidelines, like an audience at the movies. Except he's not facing them.

There's only so much privacy inside this prison cell. But beggars can't be choosers.

The rubbing of hand contact reaches Raph's ears. Donnie is signing their names now.

And Raph can't help it. He peeks at the conversation. He's selfish. He needs to see the look of delight on Mikey's face.

But Mikey stays still. It's kind of scary. He's usually moving around so much. He fidgets and gets distracted easily and stomps his feet when he's angry. He makes funny faces and signs _fast._ The lack of reaction is just weird.

Then, at last, Mikey's hands move slowly. He signs something Raph doesn't catch, then points at Donnie, who nods. Then he points at himself and uses hand alphabet to spell his own name in the air. Donnie, now smiling wider than ever, lets out a short laugh.

The reaction is instant. The spell shatters like glass. Mikey launches himself into Donnie's arms and beams. He grins and laughs and rambles with unheard words. Then his gaze shifts. He spots Raph, and before Donnie can stop him, Mikey sprints towards him.

He crouches before Raph and puts up the palms of his hands as if to say 'wait, wait for it.' Raph exchanges a knowing look with Donnie who just shakes his head helplessly. Mikey taps the floor, an indignant little frown on his mouth. Raph recognizes that 'Pay attention to me' call anywhere. His best friend is Casey freaking Jones.

"Alright, alright what is it, _bud_?" He emphasizes the last word with a grin.

This only helps to excite Mikey even more. His hands sign again. He points his thumb towards himself and then his left hand moves a little too fast. But Raph recognizes most of the letters. Mikey had signed them during the shadow puppet night.

Once he's done introducing himself, Mikey offers a greeting bow, Japanese style.

This is one of those Japanese things that would pull Leo all the way up to cloud nine.

Mikey blinks hopeful eyes at him, waiting.

 _Fine._ Raph can't help but match the expression with a helpless smile. The chair stops swinging. It settles on the ground as Raph steps over it and stands in front of Mikey. He returns the greeting bow quick and somewhat stiff, mostly glad to get it over with.

"Nice to meet you, Mikey," he says and has barely enough time to finish before Mikey tackles him into a hug. Raph snorts, but this is getting all too cheesy for him so he pulls the dork away. "Okay, okay, that's enough."

"Raph's right." Donnie comes over.

"Excuse me, what was that again? I'm what now?"

"Don't push it." Donnie shoots him a glare. He places a hand on Mikey's shoulder. "You guys hungry?"

Raphael is willing to settle even with algae and worms. He's starving.

"All right, but first things first," says Donnie, deadly serious, turning to squint his judging eyes at Raph before his nostrils wrinkle in disgust. "You're taking a bath."

The stench of the past several days of half decent clean up sessions — courtesy of Mikey — and recent physical activity reaches Raph's nostrils.

He scoffs, indignant. Now that's just rude.

* * *

Surreal.

That's one word to describe it. Raph slouches on his usual chair, with his arms crossed on top of his plastron and his feet _off_ the table – " _No. I am_ not _kidding, Raphael."_ Raph rolls his eyes. He'd never thought Donnie could be a such neat freak considering where _he_ lives.

Raph shrugs in his hoodie. He only agreed to wear the thing because it's freezing down here. It has absolutely _nothing_ to do with Mikey pouting his lower lip like some orphan kid plucked out from one of those sad Dickens movies. And of course, the second Raph accepted the warm set of clean clothes after his bath, Mikey's crocodile tears magically disappeared.

Manipulative little brat.

He's mostly just watching them cook because _Mikey_ wouldn't let him lift a finger to help.

Seriously, he's the one who got a beat down. Raph can't understand how Mikey can be on his feet right now.

"Watch the fire," Donnie says from the sink as he scrubs a dirty bowl with a soapy rag.

Mikey waves his hands nonchalantly. Signing his brother off. But he turns to the stove and lowers the fire that heats the pot. Raph's mouth waters at the smell. He doesn't care what is inside there, he just wants it in front of him and quickly. He's not the most pleasant of turtles when he's hungry.

"You guys sure you don't need some help?" he says shortly, impatient. Maybe if Mikey let him, they'd get this done _faster._

Mikey shoots him a threatening glare and snaps a sign that Raph can only interpret as, 'Sit down. Now.'

Donnie shakes his head. "Nope, we're good. Oto, be nice."

Mikey just points a metal spoon in Raph's general direction. It's almost a warning.

"Right," Raph says slowly. "I'll sit down, then."

Mikey smiles then. He nods in approval and lifts the lid from the pot. He squeals and taps his fingers on the counter, calling Donnie's attention.

"Yeah, I had to move it. It's inside the cupboard to your left now," says Donnie without much of a glance. He finishes washing the last cup and fills it with tap water.

"Sorry it's just water," he says as he places the cup in front of Raph, then scratching the side of his neck he adds, "We get milk sometimes, but we run out and, well — I don't think they're too pleased with us right now." He offers a sheepish smile.

Raph resists the urge to squash the cup between his fingers as a bolt of indignation crosses his mind. Not _pleased_? Who the heck do they think they are? But he doesn't ask. Instead he forces himself to breathe. Just breathe. "Don't worry about it." Wow. That came out with a lot more rage than he intended —

 _Slam!_ Metal crashes against the stone floor.

"Ototo!" Donnie's at Mikey's side in an instant. Or at least, as fast as his limp allows.

Mikey rubs his head with clutched hands, a grimace tightening his features. The open cupboard is now empty. At Mikey's feet, a bowl, a rusty cup and the metal tray that just hit his head, roll and finish settling on the ground.

"Are you okay?"

'Yes,' Mikey half signs and Raph can't follow the rest. Everything gets too fast after the third apology.

Donnie sighs, picking up the tray and placing it back inside the cupboard. "You have to be more careful. Let me look at that."

Mikey whines as soon as his brother's hands inspect his sore forehead.

"Then stop being so fidgety!" Donnie steps back and tries again.

Mikey tickles him.

"I mean it!" Donnie shrieks with a short laugh. He quickly recovers and crosses his arms over his chest and raises his chin. He's about as menacing as a half-cooked noodle. Raph snorts.

"Something you want to say, Raphael?"

Raph raises both hands in the air. "Didn't say anything."

He earns a glare for that. But that tiny moment of distraction is all Mikey needs to slip away from Donnie and place himself in front of the pot once more.

"Hey! We're not done, come back here!"

Mikey blows a raspberry at him, then a couple of seconds later he signs again. He cups both of his hands in front of him, in the shape of a bowl, and beams at them both.

Donnie sighs, accepting defeat. "Soup's ready."

Raph doesn't want to admit his disappointment at the size of his share. The soup is mostly broth and a few pieces of vegetables. He peeks at Mikey's and Donnie's and cringes. Theirs are even smaller. Donnie's is not even inside a bowl, as he has a cup in front of him. Because they only have two chairs, Mikey settles on the 'bed', insisting Raph's a guest. Or so Donnie interpreted.

"Itadakimasu," Donnie says putting his hands together in form of prayer and bowing his head slightly. From the background Mikey does the same grace, but a muted version.

Raph has only ever seen Splinter do this so formally. He says the word, but he's never felt comfortable bowing.

No one comments on his lack of manners as they all eat. It's surprisingly good. Warm and salty, with a touch of spicy. Raph licks his lips and gulps everything down. It settles in his empty stomach and he sighs. Decent food that's not bread. It's been _too_ long.

When he opens his eyes, Mikey stands next to Donnie. He is smiling excitedly at Raph as his hands sign something.

"Huh?"

"He's asking if you liked it."

Raph's cheeks flare. He's the only one who's finished it. He glances down at the empty bowl then back up at Mikey's hopeful eyes. "Yeah!" he says immediately. "It was awesome, buddy. Really good."

Mikey beams and hops in the air. He rushes back to the bedding and picks up his own unfinished bowl. He places it in front of Raph.

Raph doesn't know what to say. He stares blankly at the bowl then back at Mikey's smile. He pushes the bowl away. "I'm full."

And the look Mikey gives him is that of absolute heartbreak. He reels back taking the bowl with him as he retreats into the safety of his 'bed nest'.

"We, uh –" Donnie starts, glancing down at his lap with a crimson face. "We might have some bread too, if you're still hungry... I think?"

He glances at Mikey, who bites his lip before signing a short, 'No.'

"Sorry," Donnie mumbles, playing with a loose thread in the hem on the sleeve of his hoodie. "We're reaching the end of the month now." He manages a hopeful grin. "They'll give us some rations next week – "

"Donnie," Raph says and Donnie stops babbling. "It's fine. By this time next week, you guys won't be needing anything from those bastards."

Mikey almost chokes on his soup. He lowers his now empty bowl.

"What?" Donnie's eyes dart around, doubt clouding his eyes.

Raph frowns. "You said it earlier. We are getting out of here."

"Yeah, but —"

Mikey stands up. He signs-slash-rants silently at Donnie who quickly replies with some gestures of his own.

Raph snaps his fingers in the air, interrupting whatever crud they're keeping him out of the loop with. He stands, jabbing a finger at Donnie's direction. "You're not getting cold feet on me now. I gave Master Splinter up, Donnie! I'm – _we_ are on the clock here! And you _know_ it. _"_

And Donnie pales. "Right." Apparently their overwhelming confessions earlier and the uncomfortable soup situation are enough to make him forget that they all might just die if they don't escape soon. "Ototo, _Mikey,_ we need to talk."

* * *

Convincing Mikey is not as hard as Raph initially thought. Still, he looks absolutely terrified at the prospect of going against Shredder. But when Donnie takes his hand and squishes it a little bit, he nods. With Donnie on his side, Mikey reluctantly accepts whatever his big brother is in for.

There's a sense of complete and utter trust between these two. No questions asked.

Guilt sets his jaw tight. How many times had _he_ questioned even the simplest of Leo's orders? He trusts his brother. He does. But then, why did it seem like he didn't?

It's fine. He'll apologize to Leonardo later. Right now, they have more important things to worry about.

With the lair's position given away, it's only a matter of time before Shredder attacks. Luckily, it would take the Foot at least a day to get Splinter. According to Donnie they had left for New York this morning. Meaning, if Shredhead wanted his mutant army with him for the attack he had to wait until nightfall. And knowing the bastard, he was not going to risk the element of surprise.

Then, if they were good enough and managed to capture his father that same night, Raph was sure Splinter would put up a fight. Not to mention Leo and the others. The fight or chase could last for hours and there'd probably be some major Footbot casualties.

Raph smirks, thinking about those jerks getting their just desserts. Good riddance. In any case, the Foot probably would need to lay low the next day. Inside Shredder's main base most likely. Then they would be back by tomorrow night. According to Don, Shredder would want to torture him and let Splinter beg for his life before the mercenary delivered the final blow. Joy.

"Mikey works in the kitchens," Donnie says pointing at a spot on the blueprint floor plan they've drawn on the floor with crayon. The fortress is huge. There are three levels plus a basement - dungeons. "That means he has access to chilies-"

"Chilies? As in peppers?" Raph raises an eyebrow.

"The active component in them is oleoresin capsicum. We use it to make the blinding powder bombs." There's an unusual, mischievous light shining in Donnie's eyes. "I just need some ethanol to extract it from the chilies and we can cook our own. I'll have a batch ready by the time the escape plan's happening. It's not gonna be a lot but it'll definitely help if we run into trouble."

Raph won't admit this out loud, but he kind of likes this new mad scientist side of Donnie. He'd actually make a pretty decent ninja. "Neat."

"Mikey, I'm going to give you a face mask when you deliver Stockman's meal to the lab. Once I release the melatonin — sleeping powder —" he adds at Mikey's puzzled look, "—into the vents, you put the mask on and we should be good to go. Are you sure you can hide the peppers by then?"

'Yes,' he signs with a little smirk then adds something else that Raph doesn't understand but makes Donnie chuckle a bit.

"Fine, but don't push your luck, Ototo. You just need to keep an open eye on the vents. If you see the white powder coming through, that means it's time to put it on. And you don't take it off until the sleeping powder dissipates, okay?"

Mikey nods in understanding.

Donnie turns toward Raph. "The basement has a natural ventilation system so you should be safe from the melatonin. But just in case, here—" He hands Raph a piece of cloth. "Breathing through a wet rag should do the trick, since the amount of powder shouldn't be too much down here. You know, I think it has a lot to do with the concave design of the ceiling in the hallway, see the cupola in the middle—"

"—Donnie."

"Right! Sorry."

"What about Stockman?" Raph narrows his eyes at the drawing marked as 'Lab'. "Won't he get suspicious? Does he let you use the lab just like that?"

"More often than you'd expect," Donnie replies with a roll of his eyes. "Trust me, he won't care or notice until it's too late. Once everyone's knocked out, and I mean _everyone,"_ he sends a sharp warning stare at his little brother before continuing, _"_ Mikey and I'll meet in the control room and deactivate the automatic lock-down security system. That's when you get out and join us upstairs. You'll know when it's safe, Raph. The door beeps when it unlocks. We'll meet at the dungeon entrance, then head out. That's the easy part."

Raph knows he's going to regret asking this. "What's the hard part?"

"We're still stranded on some island, and the sleeping powder won't affect whatever guards surround the premises – but that's what the peppers are for. Though they won't work on the M.O.U.S.E.R.S. or the Footbots."

He just _had_ to ask.

Mousers. He remembers those little pests far too well. He and Leo wouldn't have made it out were it not for April and Casey. He shakes his head at the fond memory of his friends. If Shredder gets a hold of them because of Raph —

No. They're fine. There's still time.

Mikey signs again. Immediately, a scowl forms in Raph's mouth recognizing the word. 'What about Master?'

Donnie places a reassuring hand on Mikey's shoulder. He signs back as he speaks. "He's away, Oto. I think he'll return tomorrow night or the night after that if we're lucky. That means we only have hours to do this. So, keep your eyes and ears open. Anything you hear about Master's whereabouts you tell me before I release the melatonin into the vents. Especially if he's coming back sooner, okay?"

'Okay,' Mikey signs with some apprehension.

Raph snaps out of his trance and frowns at the unknown drawing surrounding one of the floor plans and tagged as 'land' and 'premises'. "Do you guys know if there's a boat nearby we can use to get to New York?"

Mikey shakes his head but Donnie beats him to the answer. "There has to be; Master's men need some way to get out of here, in case something goes wrong with the authorities."

"Okay, I'm putting my foot down here." Raph says with a snarl and points a finger against Donnie's hoodie. "You need to stop calling that bastard Master, right now."

Donnie's face reddens, avoiding eye contact. "Sorry, i-it just slipped. I guess some things will take some time, you know?"

Raph places a hand on his shoulder. "You take your time, but do get better." He nods in understanding.

Donnie returns the gesture until another hand lands on top of Raph's. Raph turns to look at Mikey who is smiling brightly at them. Donnie sends him a dry stare and Mikey draws back sheepishly. Raph only smirks at him.

"Way to ruin the moment, buddy." He elbows him lightly and Mikey yelps and sticks out his tongue at Raphael.

"Don't get cute, you brat!" Raph grabs him by the head and delivers a noogie. Mikey yelps in protest, squirming and fighting and laughing.

Donnie snaps his fingers. "Children! Children! The situation at hand, please?"

They both let go of each other. Mikey nudges him with his elbow. Raph returns it. "Right. Right. The Great Escape." He nods and Mikey leans forward, all serious in the face. He's trying his best not to dissolve into giggles.

"You both deserve each other."

'I love you too!' Mikey signs.

"So," Raph says before they get too off topic. "Anyone know how to get out of the dungeons?"

As if on cue, the brothers turn to the door that leads to the corridor where Raph's cell is. According to Donnie, the automatic door should've unlocked itself at five in the morning. It's almost ten now.

Apparently his friends' duties in both the kitchen and the lab are not so important to Shredder anymore.

 _Fine._ Seems to Raph that he's gonna have to take matters into his own hands. He picks up Donnie's kit and rummages through its contents.

"What are you doing?" Donnie asks and approaches Raph with every intention of taking his precious cooler bag back.

"Where's the syringe?" Raph asks.

Donnie is suddenly on edge. "I threw it out," he says far too quickly.

"You threw it out?" Raph repeats and something very similar to anger rises to his throat.

"Yes, well you used it to pick those dirty manacles! I couldn't exactly reuse it after that!"

Raph lets go of the cooler bag with a scoff. Great. Fantastic.

"We need to pick the door's lock," Raph explains. "Where's the knife, Mikey?"

Mikey takes a few steps back, panicked. Donnie is at his brother's side in an instant.

"That's not a good idea," he says to Raph as he places a reassuring hand on Mikey's shoulder. "This is not like your prison cell. This door is as mechanic as it is automatic." He takes out a ring with a key from his hoodie's front pocket.

Raphael is about to scream at him when he starts talking again.

"We don't usually need the key. The door unlocks on its own. If we even try opening it when they don't want us to, it'll activate the automatic lockdown. The door closer will stick the door shut from the inside. Alarms will go off and you'll have at least a dozen _unhappy_ armed men down here in less than two minutes."

Mikey shudders. By the look of terror on Donnie's face, he is speaking from experience.

Raph has to commend Shredder for his thoroughness on prison cell design. And yet, this doesn't make sense.

Shredder went through a lot of trouble with these guys. He didn't even need to. Donnie and Mikey wouldn't dare to step out of line before. Even Raph's own dungeon seems less secure than this — this vault.

Why would the Foot give them keys if they have control over who opens the doors and when anyways? Wouldn't it be easier if the bastards just unlocked it whenever they pleased? It's like this is some sick game or somethi—

Raph's heart stops. There's a lump inside his throat.

Shredder _is_ playing with them. He allows some mild form of liberty, security and _hope_. Everything is just some part of a messed up game. It's a ruse. He gives them useless keys that probably only work for the dungeons. They can't even open their own door if Shredder doesn't want them to. He wants them to feel powerless – helpless. But they have stuff. Like a kitchen and bathroom and... Shredder could easily lock them inside a dark room to rot; let them out to work.

It's like that bargain with Mikey. Why did Shredder offer to let Raph go? Why give them a way out? He could have just ordered Mikey to get the location from Raph. But he didn't. He gave him an option. Why?

 _Because they're not prisoners._

Shredder gives them empty hopes, just to – to trap them down here again. Make sure Donnie and Mikey know who's in control. Who gives them food and commodities, and who can just as easily take them away. He keeps them in a false loop, making them believe that they have something when he's treating them like... some kind of _trophy_ he's won _._ Locked in some sort of strong-room-like little house.

The possibility of them actually being related becomes more probable by the minute. But Raphael can't... No. He can't afford to think about that now.

"Have they locked you in like this before?" Raph finds his voice tight and low. They nod.

"Only when they want to take us out of the country," says Donnie. "They usually lock us in for a couple of days before shipping us."

Raph grits his teeth. He wants, _needs_ to break something. Shredder's face would do.

"If they are waiting to kill us – you and Splinter –" Raph doesn't miss the slip but lets Donnie continue. " – There's no guarantee they will let us out before then. If the war is over... we're going back to Japan. So there's no point in letting us out before then." He's mostly talking to himself now. "That means we have to get their attention somehow, make _them_ open the door first. Convince them to let us work and get the stuff for the plan."

"Okay, sounds good," Raph says. "How do we do that?"

Donnie swallows thickly. A resigned but terrified look crosses his eyes as he meets Raph's with a short nod. "We have to give them a show."

* * *

Turns out, 'a show' is, in Donnie's brilliant, exemplary, _genius_ mind, trashing this place. Raphael simply can't believe these guys are the two timid turtles he met weeks ago. He slams the folded metal chair against the wall.

"You think you can trick me again! I'll show you!" he thunders, then his voice lowers to a whisper. "Are you sure this is gonna work?"

"No!" Donnie replies in the same quiet voice and clanks Mike's metal tray against their door. "But do you have a better idea?"

"How about us _not_ trashing the only things that we could use as weapons later!" he hisses back.

Mikey jumps up and down in their bathtub. He's having way too much fun for Raph's liking.

"We're not trashing anything! We just need to make as much noise as we can! Eventually, someone will have to check on us –"

"Well, what if that _someone_ turns out to be that coward Xever with a freaking army of Foot soldiers?! You ever thought of that, Beautiful Mind? Don't you remember what happened with Stockman?"

"Did you just call me beautiful?" Donnie looks disgusted and completely perplexed. Darn him and his lack of movie reference knowledge. He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. He's gone, he and Ot—Tiger Claw both left for New York. That means whoever shows up will be a lower ranked agent or— you know what? Just keep yelling!"

"Agg! Agg! You'll see!" Raph howls awkwardly. Mikey melts into giggles. "I know you work for Shredder, you – uh – Turtles!"

"You're a turtle too!" Donnie hisses, slapping his face. He slams the metal tray against the door once more. "That doesn't even make sense!"

"Hey! Don't question my character's dialogue choices, _pal,"_ Raph snaps and throws his chair across the room and into the bedding. "I've been doing this far longer than you think!" All of the bad guys call them Turtles.

"Throwing temper tantrums, yeah, I can tell." Donnie rolls his eyes and walks over to Raph. His leg is still in a cast but now he doesn't need a crutch to be up and about, though he's a lot slower without it.

Suddenly footsteps approach. They all freeze. Their gazes snap to the door. Donnie rushes to the wall where he's laid his crutch and picks it up.

The door opens. Baxter Stockman, with a trio of Mousers, steps into their room. "What on Earth – what do you think you are doing?"

Donnie immediately assumes his meek position and bows his head. Mikey stills as well, following his brother's lead. Raphael glares but smirks inwardly. The charade is on.

With a growl, Raphael launches at Stockman. He doesn't even manage to reach him as a Mouser head-butts him on the plastron. He lands on his back a few feet away.

The Mouser jabs its open jaw at him. Raph snarls at it and grabs hold of the creature's muzzle, trying to crack the little sucker open.

As he struggles against the Mouser, Stockman gloats triumphantly. "You fool! You thought you'd catch me by surprise again, turtle?" He barks another laugh and it's so pathetic Raph almost feels sorry for the guy. "You're lucky Master Shredder won't let me dissect you."

Raph rolls his eyes at the idiot's empty threats. He rips open the Mouser's lower jaw and rises to his feet with a jump. "Yeah, I'd like to see you try."

Baxter Stockman shrieks a high-pitched, panicked cry. His hand snatches the Mouser spray hanging from his belt and points it at Raph.

Raph growls under his breath and smartly backs off.

Stockman scoffs smugly as he lowers the spray. "Yeah, that's what I thought." His good eye lands on Donnie and Mikey. His face turns into a nasty scowl. "You two seem to be enjoying your day off a little too much." He points at the door and snaps his fingers. "Get to work. Now!"

They need no further motivation to get out of the room. Mikey sends Raph a smile and Donnie nods at him before they exit. Thankfully, Stockman is too scared, his eyes fixated on Raphael, to actually pay attention to the two turtles. An idea crosses his mind. Smirking, Raph makes a loud stomp toward the man. Stockman shrieks away in terror, raising his hands defensively in the air.

Raph laughs.

"Yeah, and that's what _I_ thought," he says and waves his hand dismissively, because Stockman is not worth his time. "You can leave now."

Furious, Stockman scowls at him, but it's so pathetic Raph's mirth just grows. "You can laugh all you want, turtle. But you won't be laughing when Master Shredder comes back with your precious rat Master in tow." Stockman smiles wider when Raph's smile falters. "Oh yeah. That's right, turtle. He took his best henchmen to get your disgusting mutant father _._ Maybe he'll even get rid of that other pest that is Leonardo. Then I'll just sit back and watch. Watch as he wastes you all right before—"

It doesn't take too long to take down the two remaining Mousers.

Stockman lands on his back. Unconscious. The useless Mouser body Raph slammed against the man's head clatters on the ground.

Raph sighs in relief. He feels so much better now.

Immediately the two turtles come rushing back into the room.

"What the —" Donnie says, stopping himself upon witnessing the mess that was his home.

Robot parts lay scattered on the ground next to a passed out Baxter Stockman. And in the middle of it all Raphael stands, carrying a grin of pure satisfaction.

"What gives?! Raph! That wasn't part of the plan!"

Mikey signs something not very friendly looking.

Raph shrugs, but the smirk doesn't leave his face. "What can I say? He pissed me off."

Donnie groans and strides into the room to grab him by the wrist like he's a really stubborn, misbehaved child. He pulls Raph out of the room and closes the door behind him, Stockman still unconscious inside. "Doesn't matter just —" he says in exasperation, pinching the spot between his eyes. "— just keep quiet okay?"

Raphael snorts. "Hey, I'm a ninja, quiet is my middle name."

"You sure it's not 'Meathead'?" Donnie mutters but Raph grins. Nothing can spoil his mood now. The prospect of a battle, of finally getting payback, is simply too good to contain.

Finally Donnie lets out a long breath before turning toward his brother. "Mikey, you're coming with me. There's been a slight change of plans."

Mikey blinks at him, cocking his head to the side.

Raphael beams in excitement.

It only serves to feed Donnie's growing frustration as he shoots another accusatory look at Raph. "Apparently, we're getting out of here. Right now."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Raph, your shell had _one _job._


End file.
